


Something about that silken mane

by Typosmyown



Category: One Direction
Genre: AU, Excessive information about horses, Flexible Harry (bottoms and tops), M/M, Nympho Harry, OT5, Rape, Slutty-Cupid Louis, bottom!Louis, the thing is the pairings change because that is the thing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-03-19 14:22:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 83
Words: 288,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3613242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Typosmyown/pseuds/Typosmyown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four lads from the UK find themselves sent to a work-program for troubled youth at an equestrian facilty where gang-like relationships are key. They are unable to resolve their differences and band together despite their shared backgrounds until a fifth lad from the UK arrives. Finally their relationships transform. Then again, the fifth member brings their tenuous interactions something unexpected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cigarette

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lollypoopz.tumblr.com](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Lollypoopz.tumblr.com).



> Typically Typos is a Bottom!Louis writer. This is will have some bottom!Harry (and the promise that Louis won't get raped) but not saying who else tops or bottoms unless asked nicely. Typos only goes in hard or not at all so there will be explicitness and mulitple pairings...lies, more lies, false representations of persons whom Typos adores. This commenced when Zayn was the big fandom drama dèjour so it opens with Zayn. The first smut is Lirry and then from there the thing is that's the thing.

Zayn pulled Louis out of the corral and flung him on the dirt. 

It was as much Zayn reacting by instinct, his inner quiet caring soul refusing to let harm come to another’s as it was, it was also his experience in knowing what would happen. 

If Zayn hadn’t reacted. 

If he hadn’t grabbed Louis. Louis would be bloody bits in the dust. Broken to smithereens by the steel-rimmed hooves of a thunderous nightmare.

So he acted with impulse, grabbed Louis, yanked him out of the corral. As soon as his reflexes acted and the crises was averted his brain kicked in and he remembered. They all laughed about it. All of them.

The prank. 

"Send the new guy in to feed the stallion. Send him in to do it with out any warning…" 

So they did. The boys had put Louis, new, inexperienced, unaware and apparently trusting Louis, into the most dangerous assignment on his first day at the equestrian facility. Unaware that the prank actually went from a joke to inacted by the other lads, Zayn stepped out of the barn and saw Louis cluelessly innocent, carrying hay, blinded by the process of balancing it and working the gate to step inside to feed the stallion. Zayn knew instantly Louis hadn't seen the horse react and had no reason to suspect. Louis just didn’t know. 

No one e v e r walks into the stallion's corral. 

Ever.

Zayn grabbed Louis at just the last second. Louis had startled hearing the snort, the sound of an animal ten times his mass launching at him with power and speed. Realizing his peril too late, Louis had jumped back hitting the gate causing it to latch behind him. Trapped.

Zayn's immediate actions served to pull Louis free just a nano-second before impact. 

As soon as Zayn had freed Louis from eminent destruction he dumped Louis to dusty earth out of harms way. It was an unceremonious release, as if Zayn's underlying carriage of royalty was indeed a warrant to have been repulsed by having to touch someone so clearly beneath his stature, even if only to spare them certain death. 

Coughing in the dirt Louis rolled to sit on his arse and looked up to see who had saved him. 

Zayn. The one who looked like a Persian lord.

Zayn stood there staring down at Louis. He shook his head with disgust. Louis stared back. In the background they both heard the horse undistracted by the dropped forage running around snorting and kicking up his heals. The pampered horse seemed completely delighted at a near obliteration of a human. Afterall, it was the uncut animal's favorite sport, pulverizing the unwary. Everyone knew that. Well, everyone except the new guy.

Silently holding his gaze, assessing Louis, Zayn took out a pack of cigarettes and lit one. Behind him on the wall of the barn not a few feet away read a sign clearly stating "no smoking”. 

Zayn lit a cigarette, looked at the horse still charging in his reverie at his near conquest, and Louis slightly dazed in the dirt. Back and forth between the two. Several times he repeated this alering assessments of horse and mouse until he apparently decided something.

"Here" Zayn tossed his pack and lighter on the dirt between Louis knees. "You almost met your god there."

Louis took the offering. With a trembling hand and a watchfulness that never wavered from its return study of Zayn he took a cigarette without a word, just a tip of his head of thanks and put a cigarette to his lips. Louis lit it with a shaking, remarkably delicate hand. 

One drag and Louis sputtered. He coughed. He damn near wretched.

Zayn continued to stand there and smoke with smooth calmness and a simple shake of his head in continued disgust. This Louis. Why was his incompetence so endearing?

"Come on you," Zayn said coming to some sort of decision. He thoroughly stomped out his cigarette, snatched Louis’ from his lips to do the same and pulled Louis up from the dirt at his feet. 

"Can’t you read? The sign over there clearing reads 'no smoking'. Don’t you know how dangerous it is to lite up in a place full of dry hay, wood rails, shavings and horses? Better come with me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will give a short backstory about this place, Bar 3, where the five meet up and delves into why there is the conflict amoung the four. It will be a Lirry centered section. There will be Lirry-smut. The third chapter will be styled like the Zouis/Cigarette chapter; in "Butterfly" there will be a fluffy look at a Harry-Louis thing. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and I would love comments.


	2. Crestfallen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter opens with a Ziam backstory to establish some of the underlying plot then it goes right into Lirry backstory and smut. (Bottom!Harry disclaimer) Enjoy! .S.

The first new guy from the UK in a while was a welcome sight for the four lads who had been at the Bar 3 Ranch and equestrian facilty for as long as Harry, Liam, Zayn and Niall had. All of them had been sent there, as had all the other boys enrolled, to experience an intensive work program designed to put troubled youth on a path to avoid descending into greater problems. 

Boys came from around the globe, usually with an agreement arranged by their parents through some legal authorities when they were identified as high risk. Always the hope was to avoid incarceration which many of them were facing when this option was presented as an alternative. The rugged western US mountain setting and hard work along with counseling, mentoring, had a success rate unparallleled in terms of turning most the youths into the citizens their families expected them to be. 

Most, but not all of the boys came from the privilege of wealthy backgrounds. A percentage of them were from families who struggled economically. Appreciation for the program's success had created a huge donor base for charitable giving to bring trouble youth, whose families didn't have the means, into the program. It was not uncommon for the outpouring of graditude from wealthy families for have their heirs restored to show the gratitude in the form of large gifts of monetary support. A grant from the foundation arm of Bar 3 could be given after applications from a magistrate, judge, school superintendant or any other official in the interests of youth who might fit the program. Liam Payne was one such grant recipient. 

Liam Payne had arrived to the Bar 3 with a history of enormously destructive problems. Once at the ranch Liam immediately realized how the system worked. There was the official system of counsellors and equestrian professionals who worked with them, mentoring, building confidence and compassion for those who came to them as lost boys. The counseling and mentoring part of the program was superb. 

For most who attended, however, the tricky issue while enrolled was their social interactions of the unsupervised type. Boys separated out into groups or bands of friends. Theses gangs controlled a secret system of social interactions behind the backs of the program professionals. 

As the new guy, Liam did like all the boys who had entered the program before him. He turned to his own kind. 

Unfortunately for Liam there were only a two lads from the UK. Harry Styles, heir to some London investment company family. And Niall Horan, another investment capital heir, from Ireland. In contrast, Liam was working-class-family-heir-to-nothing. Faced with banding with the two elites, or going his own road, he chose the later. 

It was a week after Liam arrived that a fourth UK lad came to the program. Zayn Malik. 

Zayn Malik had an official address listed as Bradford. Liam's heart had not been able to stop racing from the moment Zayn stepped into the sun on the day of his arrival. Zayn placed a polished, designer boot into the dusty dirt. Reflection of light coming off his boot was no match for the luster of his hair ebony hair that was somewhat long and styled to perfection. A word had not left his full lips to return the greeting of the counsellors who met him upon arrival before he was reaching into his tailored jacket, which began with a mandarin colar and ended just above his knees, to take out a pack of cigarettes. 

Zayn was immediately informed there were restrictions about who could smoke and where so he tucked his smoke back inside his jacket lapel. Still not saying a word, Zayn could only be described as aloof. 

Studying Zayn created a feeling that overcame Liam as if he was being lifted by a sea of bubbles. He felt weightless. Giddy. A bit nauseated. And aroused. 

Liam couldn't wait to get his chance to meet the exotic-looking Zayn Malik. He didn't know about designer labels and such as much as most of the elite set did. Liam just knew Zayn looked like money. He heard others whispering in their little groups gathered around; whispers about how unreal Zayn seemed. Maybe because he seem snipped out of a fashion magazine. Still not saying a word to anyone unless he absolutley had to, Zayn was captivating to Liam. 

Zayn was lead by a counselor, walking pass the groups of program youth that were all gathered, as was the usual practice, to see the new arrivals. Liam noted every detail about this Zayn as he passed. 

He was thin with a stature a few inches shy of Liam's. Tattoos peaked out of clothing. As he walked he carried a shyness about his shoulders, like he was downtrodden upon arrival, but he dropped that and straightened regally each time a pause in the path through waiting counsellors required introductions. Zayn made direct, unfaltering eye contact. He was just quieter than most. 

Liam was absorbing the impact of seeing Zayn's eyes which were dark yet sparking like some black diamond or unknown gem when he finally heard Zayn's accent. It was distinctly working class. Scoffs around him confirmed others opinions about Zayn's dialect as well. This confirmed that the new arrival, despite his look of wealth, was perhaps one like Liam, here on a grant. 

At last. 

A working class lad from the UK, Liam hopes. 

After Zayn's things were taken to his room Zayn was immediately greeted by the other two UK lads, both Styles and Horan were equally anxious as Liam to build band numbers. 

Liam had to wait until Harry, who was always so, so, so Harry, had to head off to his assignments for the day to make a chance to meet Zayn. Heart racing from what Zayn stirred in him, he followed Niall and Zayn as Niall escorted the new guy to his first appointment. The first day was always meeting with counselors and mentors to get acquainted. Niall had been tapped as the person to show Zayn around. 

Eavesdropping, Liam heard Niall and Zayn conversing. His crush was telling the Irishman about his father. The man lived in Dubai. Zayn's statements about his background were vague, but the implications were clear from Niall's interpretation of monied lives of the very wealthy. Zayn's father was likely a Saudi Prince or some other middle eastern oil lord. Parents divorced. His mum lived in Bradford which is where Zayn and his sisters were raised. His citizenship was dual. His future set. The more Liam overheard the more he felt that Zayn was possibly royalty. He mentioned Iran. He said something about Egypt. Liam's heart sank. 

Crestfallen. 

Liam was crestfallen with the reality of being the odd man out again. That day, Zayn's first, Liam turned away and he tried with everything inside him to not look back, not look at Zayn. Never think about Zayn. Being alone, a loner, was a better way. Afterall, Liam convinced himself, this was the truth. 

Zayn was beyond his reach. 

Every day when Liam's thoughts were free to follow their own diversions the one thing he repeated was just that idea. Zayn was beyond his reach. Having not successfully banded with a group of blood brothers or a gang, Liam tried to select work duties that allowed him to be alone much of the time. Frequently Liam was found working the solitary detail of riding the fence line on horseback and making repairs. 

"Playing cowboy", as some of the Bar 3 youth liked to taunt, was something that Liam actually really and truly enjoyed. It meant he got to go out on a horse alone and just check endless fence without anyone telling him what to do, how to think, what was right, what was wrong in how he apprached problems. 

Those questions were hard ones for Liam. He preferred to not consider them even though he knew fighting, failing to resolve understanding these issues, only extended one's stay in the program. The thing is for Liam, unlike so many of the privilege youth there, he really had nothing to go home to. No future there. No fortune waiting. No career set in place. He couldn't go home. 

Riding the fence line, dressed the same as real cowboys of the working west, Liam felt good. He felt free. Free to think. Free to imagine. He imagined, usually how he would be if he could have Zayn. For Zayn, Liam might try to do things right. 

***

The second day after the fifth kid from the UK arrives Liam had been out doing his fence line work, enjoying freedom to pursue fantasying about Zayn. Riding back from his favored work of repairing fencing Liam went straight to put his horse up passing several groups of boys who had already finished their day's work and were socializing in groups out in the sun on the porches of the various housing lodges wasting away time before supper. 

Everyone glanced his way Liam rode past. They always did. Liam had a thing about wearing his full gear; tight western cut jeans under his leather chinks with fringe, a tooled leather belt with rodeo buckle that was a gift from one of his mentors. He wore a traditional cowboy hat, western boots with spurs. He made the look his own choosing to forego the protection of a long sleeve collared shirt like a real cowboy would wear. Instead, he opted to wear a tight filting tank that would display his lean, muscular torso and arms. His six pack was visible through the thin fabric which always had a layer of dried sweat at the end of the day adhering it to his form making him all the more a picture of masculinity. 

Another fashion-above-function bit of traditional cowboy attire Liam wore was the bandana, or as it is called in the working ranch vocabulary, a wild rag. He chose the traditional patterns, but Liam being, afterall a lad from England, chose to not use it as a neck scarf to shield him from the sun and dust. He wore his as a drop coming out of a rear pocket. This was his flash of style. 

Heads turned and looked. Liam rode past asking his horse to keep at a slow walk. He didn't care who stared at him since he considered none at the program his friends. Well, maybe if Zayn was to be among them, he would care. So he went slowly. A scan from his peripheral vision as he passed each group verified Zayn was not among any of them. What was apparent was they were seeming to be in high-gossip mode. Oh right. There was the new guy. 

It was tradition, unbeknownst to the Bar 3 professional staff, to always prank a new arrival on their first day of work that began on day two. The very first day was always meeting up with the professionals, unpacking, learning the rules and regulations of conduct. Their first day of work assignments was the following day. That's when they would be un officially tested by the other lads. 

Liam remembered the sting of the embarrassment from being pranked on his second day. He wondered what the prank for this new guy was this time. Who did it to him. He wondered how the new, pretty, feminine-looking Brit reacted. Liam imagined he was a crier. That was always the worst thing to do. Deciding it wasn't any of his business he stopped at a hitching rail to remove the tack from his horse. He curried the sorrel gelding clean bring a shine to its coat. Then he made sure it had fresh water and hay in its corral before he took his saddle and bridle to put them away. In the background the laughing suggested that spirits were high. A prank must have been successful. Everyone was talking. The boy cried? 

Cried, probably so, Liam thought. 

Gossip didn't interest Liam. He'd hear what they did to Brit#5 eventually. Details didn't matter to him.

Liam was alone in the tack room when Harry stumbled in to return a saddle to the series of racks. He acted surprised to see Liam there. Both looked at each other for a lingering minute before proceeding to resume their tasks without a word to each other. 

Why was it like this between them? Harry relished the discomfort that oozed off Liam when they were alone. 

Harry smiled to himself as he kept his back to Liam. He would pretend, as always, like he didn't delight in knowing exactly why it was always like this between them. 

The saddle Harry was returning was not the working western saddle like Liam's. It was an English saddle, the style Harry rode. Those types of saddles were typically kept further from the door, being so much lighter, easy to carry to the back. Where Harry decided to put his, the wrong place, was deliberate. It allowed him to be in control of Liam in this space where they were. Alone. 

Liam was carefully sorting out the western saddle and pretending Harry didn't exist. He put the thirty five pound western saddle on its rack, hung the wool saddle blanket on the rail underneath to air dry. Meticulously he made sure the breast collar was hanging neatly not to drag on the floor. He did the same with the cinch and latigos. Liam checked the rope, which was always standard gear with the western saddles at the ranch, making certain it was tightly secured. Liam even took time to make check that the saddle strings were straight, hanging down neatly and not caught under the saddle. Liam's saddle was a tool of an honored trade. His mentor at the ranch had taught him this. Liam respected the wisdom. This is how it was with Liam. Things he learned that were not a part of anything about himself he valued. Only his internal conflict was something Liam couldn't face. 

The longer Liam fused the more Harry smiled. He knew Liam was avoiding him. This was not Harry's first time at the rodeo, speaking metaphorically. 

Harry decided he would fiddle with his gear too. Stall. Eventually Liam would have to come past Harry to leave or they would be there all night. Each fusing with the gear pretending to be alone. 

Liam must have made a decision because he turned and quickly moved to the door. Harry spun around and stepped in front of Liam and put his back to the door to securely block Liam at the exit. 

"Liam, what do you think of the new Brit? Pretty sweet arse, wouldn't you say?" 

Liam's face showed his exasperation. This was it. Harry's point of view was that everyone was gay or in denial about being gay. Every new arrival came down to what made them desirable, what about them made Harry want to have sex with them. Harry's nympho behaviors were certainly what put him in the youth program. He was caught having sex with the vice-president of his father's company. In the work place. Sex in the board room. On the table where the board of directors met. Best part? Harry was caught with his dick up the other 30-year-old man's ass, the vice president and immediate second to Harry's father, by Harry's father and the board of directors as they went to the meeting room one night. 

Everyone new this story about Harry's final act before being sent to Bar 3. 

Liam licked his lips and tried not to acknowledge it was an involuntary response to being confronted by close proximity to Harry's plump, suculent-looking ones that had formed a wicked, subtle grin with trapping Liam again. Their faces were inches away. Only sliver of space existed between their chests. Liam's nostrils detected the vanilla scent of Harry's favorite shampoo mixed with Harry's perspiration and a woodsy scent from the horse Harry had been riding. 

"M'not sure what you're talking about Harry. Didn't notice anything much to look at..." 

Liam had not finished before he was met with Harry's lips crashing into his own. Lips, and almost as quick, a tongue which seemed to always fill Liam's mouth with some interesting taste because, Liam had learned, these attacks were always planned. Harry was always well prepared. Today the taste was rootbeer. Rootbeer probably because one of the counsellors always kept a bowl of rootbeer hard candies on his desk. 

Rootbeer. 

Rootbeer effused Liam's senses and he realized he should be pushing himself back from Harry but instead his brain told him how fortunate it was that he always dismounted at the end of the day, and always, before he started to untack his horse, he unfasten the extra layer which was his chinks and hung them at the rail outside. 

As Liam was failing to assert his rejection of Harry's advance his blasted brain betrayed him; thinking how fortunate it was that there was not extra bit of gear adding another barrier to this. This. The advancement of Harry. 

What? Damn subconscious taking over. 

This was it. 

The thing they did. 

The thing they did even though Liam tried to believed he hated it. 

It was wrong. Harry was wrong. All of it wrong. 

The only part about it that was right was revealed in the one and only conversation they had about it early on in the game. The conversation was about Harry's willingness to be "flexible" when it came to the rolls they each assumed when they did this. 

Harry, a self-defined "top", always bottomed in these sessions with Liam. He bottomed and he always seemed like he really and truly liked doing it. Afterwards he would add to the shame and embarrasment that Liam felt for caving into Harry's advances by saying it was just that he "couldn't resist submitting to Liam because...Liam...had...that...big...dick." 

Harry began to nuzzle Liam mixing nuzzling with returning to more passionate, penetrating kissing as he worked Liam into a frenzy. He nuzzled and mumbled in his gravely voice and directed his hands to begin their wanderings. 

"You can't tell me you didn't notice that lad's arse, Liam..." 

Harry's hands unfastened Liam's belt and fly working their way into his pants. 

"Everyone was talking about it on day one, Liam. Even you had to be aware..." 

Some squeezing of Liam's arse in Harry's large hands certified to Harry that Liam's body was unable to pull back from his even though Liam professed to be "completely straight" every time after the guilt set in. After they were both spent. 

Nuzzling along Liam's defined shoulders and licking the dried sweat coated skin Harry moved his hands. He pressed on to Liam's abs, always needing to feel the definition, respect the power of Liam's core and the pleasure Liam's fitness would bring Harry. 

"But I know, Li, I know. You're not a big-bum kinda guy. You like da'small, cute ass, of say ...so who do you think has the best tiny booty, the best tight ass, Li? Me...or Zayn?" 

Bullseye. 

Liam unleashed. His hands that had been hanging off his motionless, restrained arms grabbed Harry and he spun Harry around. He pushed Harry away from the door and bent him over a racked saddle. 

In Liam's ears was Harry's laughter and encouragement. Encouragement Liam knew would turn to begging. 

Harry may have self-defined as an alpha, a top, a lord, when it came to sex though, he had healthy drive to have his pleasure however it was served. 

Liam ripped down the hunter-style riding pants Harry wore to expose him. Those pants were obscene to start with. Men's and women's styles were hardly distinct. Both were basically the same. A spandex component guaranteed a tight, sprayed-on fit revealing every curve. Even a dimple on a back side of a thigh could show through. For legs like Harry's such attire just revealed perfect muscle. 

The inner thigh of the pants had a layer of suede to assist gripping a saddle. On Harry this style of pant made already scandalously long legs look all the more inconcievable particularly accentuated by the knee-high English riding boots. As Liam took the pants down he realized the simple hook closure was probably bent and ruined by his impulsiveness. Once again, Harry's seduction over took Liam. 

Harry's bared ass was waiting for Liam. Harry had not worn anything under the riding pants. 

One quick run of Liam's first two fingers between Harry's cheeks revealed that the cleft was wet with a viscous substance. No doubt Harry had, as was his custom, prepped himself. Loosened himself. And then probably squirted more lube into the exterior surrounding area to be certain he was welcoming. 

As Liam was taking this all in Harry was laughing at his delight in being dominated, shoved into position. He laughed and he taunted. He wigged his arse and he tried to spread his legs to the extend the existing clothing that hung off over his boots allowed. 

Harry waited. 

Liam ran his hands up under Harry's shirt, rubbing his calloused hands over Harry's smooth back. Harry had such an expansive torso. He was a big boy actually, taller than Liam by and inch or two, a bit more heft in some ways, but an idealic male form. Harry had a body all the girls should go crazy for. And here he was. 

Spread and wiggling his arse in the air for Liam. 

Liam had the power. That, and the big dick. Labelled by all the boys in the program as "the10. 2" (inches) and thick. He pulled it from his jeans hardly bothering to push the fabric aside much. This was to be quick, Liam imagined. 

Liam laid the massive cock on the bared ass to marvel at how small it made Harry's bum look and Harry emoted a moan of contentment, anticipation. 

"That's right, Liam. Everyone knows who the top stud is on the ranch." Harry taunts. "Even that prized 20 million dollar stallion knows you have the biggest cock. Give it to me Liam. Fill me, stud." 

Liam took his cock in hand. It had already begun to develop clear drops of precum on the slit. He smacked the tiny arse with it a few times as his other hand checked to feel, that indeed, Harry was loosened and ready. 

"Shut your mouth Harry, and I'll give you the fucking you want. But this is absolutley the last time." 

Harry laughed. 

Liam knew. 

Harry was right. Liam was pathetic. It wouldn't be the last time. 

Liam was never going to be free from Harry's seductions as long as he denied his obsession, his true-self, his lust, his love for Zayn. 

So he pushed himself in more than a little uncaringly rough to silence the laughing. Harry choked back his taunt and gasped. Liam was so much to endure until one adjusted. 

A few cautious firsts, more gentle, thrusts into Harry and Liam set into a nice rhythm fucking. Harry and Liam both were rather quietly enjoying this outlet and Harry strained to keep his delight low. They knew from experience that traffic into the barn this unlikely hour when everyone was cleaning up for supper. And, as what also often happened, Harry felt Liam's mind begin to wander. He knew it was the case, becuase he knew the physical changes in Liam that indicated what were Liam's thoughts. 

We shouldn't be doing this. For example. 

I'm not gay. Another thought every time Liam fell into Harry's trap. 

I don't like Harry. 

Harry, in particular, is awful. 

Those would be Liam's thoughts. The one place he couldn't allow himself was where he really wanted to go. Liam may not have wanted to admit it but Harry knew immediately that the new Brit was not at all to Liam's taste. Not because Liam was into girls. Harry knew Liam liked men. Liam's ideal man ran in the vein of the more exotic. Dark and sultry. Mysterious. A Zayn. 

Realizing Liam might loose his momentum with his guilty self-conscious, perhaps before Harry had even shot his load, Harry began two things. First, he began rapidly wanking himself. Second he used his mouth. 

"Oh Liam, keep hitting my there, yeah. Yeah. I know your likes Liam, know you don't go for a big, asslicious booty." 

"Oh yeah, there, right there Li. You're such a tiny booty kinda guy, Niall maybe. Maybe, oh ..." 

Liam had regained some intention with Harry's teasing but he was still not giving Harry the meat served hard and relentless like Harry wanted. In Harry's experiences bottoming he had learned one thing was essential. He always got off if he was still able be the dominant, still drive the show. Power bottom. He knew all the tricks. 

Give praise then torment. That was how to do it. 

"You're fucking me so good Liam." 

"Not going to ride tomorrow, no. No." 

"Gonna spend my day feeling the burn of you." 

"Fantasize about who you wanna fuck, N-n-n-niall?" 

"Not Niall. Not for you. Too much beer and potatoes. Good booty though." 

Liam was too busy working to think "Harry shut up". But then Harry said it. 

"Something with a tiny booty and a smokey flavor." 

The next couple of thrust were to Harry's liking. They were deliberate. And forceful. Liam was grabbing Harry's hair and pulling it hard with one hand and gripping Harry's hip with and even harder hold in the other. He brought Harry into him with his backward pull with as much force as he slammed his pelvis forward nailing Harry's prostrate. 

"I bet he taste smokey. And like cardamom. Don't you think?" 

Liam's breath had gotten loud. A guttural noise was being held at bay but his next series of thrust spoke for him and Harry felt himself closing in on his quest. He held his dick still without any additional strokes feeling precum leaking, orgasm nearing. 

"Oh yeah, Liam, cardamom. That's the flavor. I should show you how to eat someone out, you can't t-t-t-ellll..." 

Harry made sure to direct his knob down so his ejaculate hit the floor and not the gear which hung underneath the saddle he was being fucked bent over atop. 

His oragsm was close to one of the best he experienced as a bottom. Certainly, Liam was worth the effort to seduce because most other men who he'd bottomed with just couldn't get him there like Liam a l w a y s did. When Harry's pleasure cleared his senses and rested there still prone for Liam to see his own orgasm through Harry felt the tale-tale signs of sex with Liam. 

Liam's dick was such a monster. No matter how much prep Harry dis before he always felt a little ripped open after. 

10.2 was the joke. 

The joke started by the Australians after when one of their gang of four decided they would intimidate Liam in the showers. The problem for them was that standing there naked in front of Liam only wearing their "big talk" Ashton, Michael, Luke, and Calum discovere that it was clear that Liam was a man among boys. 

They had apparently initated some plan to overpower him, toss him into a closet naked to be released by unsuspecting adults, embarassed and shamed. But they found as Liam handled their attempted assault all alone his rage showed. His rage paired with excitement. Liam thrived on rage; the side effect was the hardening of his dick. They said he got to ten inches in the scruffle, or maybe a titch more. "10.2" to be precise. 

Other than the four Australians that one time, Harry was the only one, aside from Liam himself, who saw Liam fully aroused. Yet Liam's impressive size has been a rumor widely spread. After every lust driven encounter Harry's thoughts later were that he should have stopped to actually measure Liam. Harry didn't know but Liam seem more likely closed to a good solid one foot than 10.2. The nick-name "10.2" had a nice ring to it, though. 

Liam pulled out of Harry to come and dumped his wad on Harry's back. It followed the contours and ran down between Harry's cheeks. Harry felt Liam's hands rubbing it around as if to consider things. Liam never liked to talk to Harry during these "unwanted" rendezvous-vows. The silence was normal. Part of Liam hiding from himself how much he liked fucking other boys. 

"You good Liam?" 

"M'good" Liam replied. One hand continued to sweep cum over Harry's skin taking it to Harry's red, open hole. The other hand reached under Harry's torso finding a nipple and played with it. 

"Wanna go again?" Harry asked, hopefulness in his voice. 

Liam slapped Harry's ass hard like he was sending a just released horse loose into an open field and responded. 

"Yeah, Harry, I do actually." 

Harry felt Liam move his still hard, or restoring rapidly cock rubbing between his spread cheeks. Definately. No riding a horse for Harry tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is called "butterfly" and it will be Larry fluff.


	3. Butterfly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is long and thank you for reading. This is continuation with the story being about the first few days following pivotal- Brit- Number- Five arriving to Bar 3. It's summer at the ranch. End of summer.

Everyone had been talking about the assignment change which Ashton and Calum had decided to write on the board for Louis. 

Feed the horses in C Barn. 

That had been Ashton and Calum's job, but when they saw an opportunity to set up the new guy with a dangerous prank they jumped. They erased Louis' assigned task which was cleaning out the wash racks and they put his name down to do theirs exchanging jobs. Then they hung around C and waited. When Louis showed up Ashton and Calum pretended to be there as helpful teachers. They took the newbie and gave him of a demonstration of how to interpret the feed instructions listed on each horse's corral or stall. Then they set Louis loose alone to do the job of two. 

Louis began without a clue that feeding horses was not a new-to-the-ranch assignment. Bar 3 had over a hundred horses. Most were working horses. Some were reserved for very specific purposes because of their value. All of them were critters that, like people, had their unique quirks and interesting personalities. Only the breeding stallion was a horse of exceptional concern. He was in a corral adjoining C Barn.

Anyone going to be assigned the feeding in C had to learn from one of the horse's trainers how to specifically work safely around the horses before feeding them.The two lads from Australia knew that Louis would not appreciate the danger that specifically came with working around the stallion. Unlike the geldings one simply could not walk in to the animal's space and drop some hay for him. Two people always had to feed him. One was just to assist if needed to protect the other. 

No one ever went into the corral alone.

Never. 

Ashton and Calum began doing the easier job of cleaning the wash racks for bathing horses that was located near C Barn. They tried to keep watch for Louis as he worked through the barn feeding but they became careless. They were so thrilled with their diabolical plan that they became increasingly impatient at his slow pace. Finally overwhelmed with desire to brag to others about it they began drift around the ranch finding their mates, socializing, and pretty much wasting time away becoming forgetful to check often enough on how Louis was doing. 

They finally did return to look in on the inexperienced Brit. Surprisingly, they found the stallion was eating his hay contently. Louis was gone having finished with all the horses. They never saw how it was that Louis survived feeding the beast. 

The anticipation that Ashton and Calum had built up throughout the day had everyone surprised to see Louis coming into the dining hall at day's end looking unscathed and body parts still attached. After all, it was only a year ago when a visitor to the ranch shopping to buy one of the nice young horses bred and newly started under saddle made an near fatal error. The buyer decided to go check out the stallion who sired his fine colt. The man considered himself extremely experienced. He examined the stallion and marveled at the horse's athletic, flawless conformation. He decided to step into the corral to take a picture without obstructing rails to use for bragging purposes about his colt's pedigree.

It took less than a second for the stallion to spin on his heels and grab the man by the shoulder and begin shaking him like a rag doll. A few such shakes and a toss left the man with a dislocated shoulder and severe lacerations from where the horse's teeth had cut trough his leather vest. The attack was over before anyone realized the man had wandered into danger.

Since then the rules had been reinforced. Only the stud-handlers worked with the horse. Only groups of two feed him. Always first they had to learn the safe practices.

So how did Louis survive?

At dinner Louis was sitting with a counselor. The man was giving Louis additional introduction to the new environment. Louis looked happy chatting with the counselor like he hadn't a care in the world. 

Assorted gangs of boys all kept speculating as they studied Louis and ate. 

"Maybe the Australians lied." One group suggested. False bravo was typical behavior of the Australian foursome. 

"How could that imp Louis, of all people, manage that horse?" 

As the gossip spun, the disappointed expressions of Ashton and Calum seemed particularly telling. Some of the groups of lads began to believe that the Australians were indeed fabricating the entire story when they claimed they set Louis up. Given no witnesses to the prank it was a mystery.

***

The next day Harry, Niall and Zayn went to check the white board to see what assignments were posted. Harry knew he had already earned a free afternoon for later in the day as a reward for some improvements he'd made from his counselor's assessments. He was thinking that he would avoid taking a horse out for a ride like he usally did with his earned free time. It was not a day for Harry to ride a horse. Harry was still feeling Liam. He decided he'd make some other plan after he first found what his morning schedule was going to be. 

They talked about Louis as they walked. 

"I still don't know how Calum and Ashton switched jobs with Louis and didn't get caught, yet alone how Louis fed that beast and came out of the corral alive." Niall was saying to Harry. 

Zayn trailed behind them smoking and listening. He didn't feel the need to supply any information.

Zayn sincerely liked Harry but he felt a little unsure with Niall, like he was the odd man out. He assumed it was something about his heritage. Being the only person who was Muslim, Zayn felt he was not ready to open himself to people completely. He wasn't sure most could understand the challenges of multiculturalism. 

Harry was tieing his hair out of his eyes with a large scarf. He agreed with Niall.

"Everyone is asking that question, Ni. It seems even harder to explain when you look at him. You and I, we at least have grown up around horses, fox hunting, polo, n'such. But he's completely clueless. I mean do you see the shoes he's wearing? Flimsy little Vans, at a horse ranch, really?"

Harry turned as he walked and looked back at Zayn who continued to lag behind them. Almost one with them, but not. Orbiting them with his shroud of mystery. Never coming into their world, but never straying from it. Harry posed a question to the etherial Zayn.

"You were working near C yesterday, weren't you Zayn? You didn't see Louis feed that stallion?"

Zayn took a last long drawl off his cigarette. He considered his answer. He liked Harry enough. And Niall was actually great even though they didn't relate. But why did they need to know what happened? People don't always need to know everything. This new lad, Louis, he seemed nice. Harmless enough. Kinda cute too in that feminine sort of way. He certainly talked a streak to Zayn after his near death experience, when the shock of it wore off. Zayn liked Louis. 

"Didn't see anything to talk about." Zayn replied. 

There you go, Zayn thought, that's all the answer I have. Not a lie. Not an explanation. It would serve Louis better to give the illusion to the Australians that Louis had circumvented their prank. Maybe they'd leave him be. If Zayn told Harry and Niall the truth it would be soon they would go tell someone. And so on. 

***

Zayn's silence on the subject left a void. In Harry there developed a bigger need to know more about Louis. Aside from the first day when he and Niall talked with the Doncaster native as they escorted him to meet the various counselors and learn the ranch's layout, Harry had not had any contact with his fellow countryman. Liam had been on Harry's mind. Once he was properly satisfied after their dicking the day before, Harry was on to thinking about other things. Things Louis. 

Once Harry finished his work for the morning he decided to go look for Louis during his rewarded free-time. When they checked assignments he saw that Louis was given the job of "Snowball", an easy task like was a standard job for new boys in the Bar 3 program. 

Snowball was a white, pony-sized horse with more hair than anything else. She was somewhere between 30 and a million years old. No one was certain of her exact age. She was somewhat of a legend because she had been such a steady kid's horse for so many years and seemed to have and uncanny intelligence and sense of duty. You could put a three year on her, abandon horse and child in the middle of the wilderness and Snowball would safely find her way home carrying her mounted treasure. Young kids would come to the ranch for lessons on weekend and Snowball was the favorite. Older than dirt, shaggy like an alpaca, not so pretty in her advanced years except for her extremely white long mane and tail, children loved her. So did Harry. 

Louis assignment was to take Snowball out to be hand-gazed. The small mare was so old that she had many teeth removed and had a hard time eating dry hay. Her diet of grain was not the easiest thing for her digestion; horses have guts meant for massive amounts of roughage. So valued was Snowball that each day when it was growing season she was led to some unfenced area to graze at her leisure. This was an assignment that was idea for a new guy. Louis had it for the day.

Harry went to ask Kyla, the wrangler who was in charge of the lesson horses like Snowball about where Louis went with the little white horse. 

Kyla was easy for Harry to talk to. She was the only female on the ranch. Harry and Kyla got along well because she was very private; it was as if she had her own demons she had battled. She treated people like she treated the horses she worked with which was to say she had innate empathy for the troubled young men in the program. She was firm and fair with them. Harry knew he could ask her for help with anything. Where was Louis? No problem, she told him what she instructed Louis to do.

"I told him to take the west loop to the third fork then let Snowball lead the way off the trail to any meadow she wanted to graze." 

She was busy rushing to get a horse ready for a lesson student who was late. She tacked the horse up and added with concern, "He doesn't seem too horse-smart. I've been behind with lessons all day and haven't checked on them so Louis has been on his own all day. I'm a little worried, y' know, since he's so new. Snowball will bring him back if he gets lost, but since he's from your little part of the world, I'd appreciate it if you could go check on him for me, Harry, just see if he's okay."

Kyla stopped and looked at Harry. Harry smiled with a little too much flirty charisma. She rolled her eyes at him and made a face teasingly like his sister would do. Kyla was a few years older than Harry and looked a lot like Blake Lively. Many of the lads had a crush on her but Harry felt something more like an easy platonic friendship. Perhaps that was because she absolutely didn't buy into his charm and his good looks. That's why he could safely joke with her. Unaffected by his assets; his compellingly green eyes. His dimples. The silliness of his curls. Kyla cared about what was in people's hearts; she seemed to know the secrets that Harry was hiding in his. And, at this moment, she was decidedly worried about Louis, so Harry's interest was a perfect solution. 

Harry headed to the west loop. After the third fork he started his search. Every open trail-side meadow was scanned looking for Louis and the tiny horse.

It was a perfect day with the late afternoon sun creating a beautiful light in the mountains. There was a hint of breeze and the sky over head was blue and cloudless. Harry spotted Snowball in a large meadow that had ample lush, tall grasses. She was eating contentedly and gently swishing her tail to brush away the occasional fly. 

Harry went toward her when he saw Snowball raise her head and take note of him so as to not startle her. There was something odd about the scene.

Harry saw no sign of Louis.

Harry made his way toward the horse while he looked around alarmed that Louis was not in sight with the mare. Snowball ate contentedly periodically raising of her head to look willingly at Harry as if to silently greet him as he meandered through the meadow toward her. She snorted softly at some bugs flying near her face, shook her head and neck to shoo some away it remained very relaxed about Harry's approach. 

When Harry got close, a horse length away, he finally saw what he was looking for.

Louis. 

Laying on his back in the tall grass of the meadow, Louis was stretched out. 

Harry paused. Snowball raised her head again and looked at him as if to say, "are you looking for us?" before she returned to her unconcerned eating with a contented blow from her nostrils and a fly-scattering shake of her head. 

Louis remained completely motionless in the grass. 

The meadow they had wandered into was full of pollen and seeds floating on the breeze and a slight array of invertebrates were busy in the warm sun. Harry stood there aware of all these things but his attention was focused on the one out of place thing in this picturesque mountain meadow. 

Louis was laying in the grass, so still, like he was sleeping. 

Around Louis' ankle was tied the horse's extra long lead rope which was used for hand-grazing excursions. Seeing the rope made Harry stop shy of approaching too directly. He wanted to make certain that Snowball was not inclined to run because of a hasty approach. A rope around a person binding them to a horse, even a small, good one like this, was a very, very bad idea. 

The next thing Harry noticed was Louis' shirt. It had slid up out of place and skin was exposed. 

A tiny, adorable belly was revealed. The soft skin looked sun-kissed and golden enhanced by the aspect of the late afternoon sun. Harry saw the gentle breaths Louis was taking. Yes, maybe he was asleep. 

Harry licked his lips at the sight of the appealing peek of amber flesh and took another step closer seeing Snowball looking at him expectantly. Her acceptance was evident. She was such a trusty little ball of fur. Nevertheless for safety he needed to get ahold her halter since Louis was foolishly tied to her with a rope.

The small movement didn't stir Louis. That is when Harry noticed the really odd thing. Like, really, really insanely odd.

On Louis' face was this thing that at first had not registered with Harry because he was mostly focused on the danger to Louis being tied to a horse and the beauty of his tiniest of budda bellies, golden and soft. Now standing a few feet away Harry saw it clearly. Perched over one eye, resting on the closed lid, was a butterfly. 

A butterfly? 

Yes. A butterfly. 

Maybe it's six tiny feet were trapped in one of Louis' thick lashes. Yet oddly enough insect appeared to be quite content basking in the sun. 

Harry watched as the butterfly ever so slowly raised and lowered its delicate wings. And in concert with this gentle opening a closing of wings Louis' belly rose and fell with each breath. It was surreal. Harry watched this synchronicity with fascination and made a study of Louis' face. 

The delicateness of the butterfly was a compliment to Louis' features. His nose was pert and seemed to have missed the process of hormonal maturation that made most men's become so large and unattractive. His lips were thin, pink and perfectly shaped. The structure to Louis' cheekbones and jawline seemed crafted to make it a vision of finely sculptured angles from every possible view. Harry himself had grown up with people always telling him how his face was perfect. Pretty. Unsettlingly flawless. He should be a model, people told him. Or an actor. He had too much beauty to waste. Looking at this boy with the butterfly mask, Harry felt strangely undeserving of such kind of praise. 

This pixie in the grass was indeed perfection. 

Another soft snort sounded from Snowball's nose and she shook her head hard tossing the long flowing mane that christened her neck. This flash of activity made the basking butterfly take flight. As soon as it lifted off Louis' face Louis bolted to sit upright and turned to Harry all smiles and giddy with exuberation. 

"Did you see that? That was incredible! Can you imagine!" 

Louis must have heard Harry because he seemed unsurprised to find Harry looming over him just a few feet away. He started rambling on about the butterfly telling Harry how it happened and asking Harry what kind of butterfly it was while never stopping for a pause to allow Harry to reply because he was that excited. He sat there in the grass and began untying the rope from his ankle, chattering like a chipmunk on speed. 

Wildly excited. A chipmunk, or maybe a meerkat...on speed. 

Louis even said, "M'so wildly excited! That was absolutley the most incredible thing to ever happen to me!" 

Harry found himself starting to try to speak and being cut off. Eventually Harry just laughed in exasperation because, damn, Louis was just so cute with his effusiveness. 

Louis freed himself from the horse and held the rope in his hand as he took a couple steps toward Harry still going on with delight about his wildlife encounter. He got right in front of Harry when he finally shut up as he looked up directly into Harry's eyes with an almost devilish grin. The imperceivable motion in the air from the batting of Louis' thick lashes as his blue eyes met Harry's could have been all it took to knock Harry over. Damn right. 

This pixie was looking at Harry through thick, fluttering lashes and with a dreaminess in his crystal-clear blue eyes that fixed on Harry. 

He seemed asking something as he grinned mischievously. Louis' hair accentuated the look. It was disshoveled with bits of grass pieces sticking out of it to a fro. He freshened his pink lips with a swipe of his tongue across them as his eyes abandoned Harry's orbs moving to look at Harry's lips instead. The tip of Louis' nose looked newly kissed by the sun and he glanced at the flare of Harry's nostrils as Harry took in a deep breath to gather the scent of Louis'. All this exchange was with them only inches away from from each other. 

Harry looked down at him and thought, "So this is what a fabled Meadow Pixie must look like." 

Harry had this habit of speaking where often times his voice came with a start that seemed almost sometimes just a little too slow and low. It was kind of like he was unprepared with his words. Generally "slowness" was a false perception about Harry because Harry was actually a very witty guy. But when he finally had his moment to get a word in he nearly choked on the first syllable. He struggled to get his brain to make a proper comment because his mind was asking "what do Louis' lips taste like?" 

He couldn't say that. 

No. 

Harry had the compulsion to tap the end Louis' nose with a finger like an old person will often do admiring the nose of a small child. Louis returned to searching Harry's eyes. He seemed to almost sparkle with happiness; Louis was very much like a small child indeed. 

"But good heavens no!" Harry's consciousness thought. Not going to treat him like a child. Not when the impulses Louis stirred in Harry were as far from child-centered as impulses could possibly be. 

So Harry allowed himself to reach for Louis to begin picking the blades of grass from his pixie-like hair and said a thing of importance. Something non-sexual, safe. Something Louis needed to know. 

Speaking in form for him Harry said slowly, "You know that you should never tie a rope around any part of your body if it's attached to a horse. Don't even make a loop and have your hand inserted through the loop when leading a horse. Not even with a small, old, nice one like Snowball." 

Statement complete Harry had to turn himself to look and Snowball to shake the feeling Louis was creating in him. He went to her and began to give her some affection. He wanted to put Louis out of his close personal space before it was too late because of how awkward he felt when they were positioned so close to one and other. 

Harry talked more about horses while looking at Snowball's white coat and studying her as he lightly petted the little mare. 

"You see horses have one natural defense. Their feet. They use them to run as the first thing to do if they are scared or threatened. I've never seen this horse take off in fear. Even when a branch breaks behind her on the trail, or thunder cracks in the mountains, or if the other horses get spirited with a changing wind, Snowball here is always so steady. But it could happen. You, you should just be careful." 

Harry felt Louis stepping close to him again. Louis reached around Harry and his hand mirrored the strokes along the little horse's neck that Harry's hand made. 

"Okay Harry. I didn't know. I won't do that again." 

Their hands continued to move in perfect unison petting the horse with long sweeping movements that began just behind the animal's head and went to her shoulder. Their mirroring movement took their hands along a path under the wavy white mane. In turn the hair of the horse's mane brushed across the back of their hands. 

Harry felt and increasingly awkward stirring in his core although he didn't know why. Louis was so pretty. And friendly. And unrestrained by spatial boundaries. 

And Harry was gay. So this was a good thing. Right? Why wouldn't it be? 

No. This was more than good. This was a great thing! 

Yet...somehow Harry felt uncomfortable. 

He sensed this an inexplicable tingling of nervousness entering him. He was inexperienced with this feeling so he kept on talking about horses even though his peripheral vision said Louis was staring only at him instead looking at the subject of the horse. Staring at Harry instead. Like he wanted Harry to meet his eyes again, but Harry couldn't. 

Harry rambled on in self-defense. "I think my favorite thing about little Snowball is how her mane and tail are so white and silky. She's proably got some unicorn in her because how else could she always be so silky." 

Harry was running his fingers trough the mane to try to direct Louis' focus to it as well. The nervous feeling was permeating more through his entire body and he was getting tongue-tied because of it. 

"Here, feel this. Doesn't that feel silky to you? Most horses have course-felling manes." 

Louis took a section of the mane to feel as directed. His hand passed too close to where Harry was running his fingers through the mane to be accidental. Unexpectedly Louis dropped the horse's mane to redirect his reach for a section of Harry's hair. Harry was caught unprepared as Louis hooked a piece of his hair with his index finger to deliberately pull the tendril of curl loose from the head scarf Harry had all his hair wrapped with. 

The act caught Harry by complete surprise and he jumped back and fell over his own feet.

Harry was shocked with embarrassment but it faded quickly as Louis, who was also surprised, laughed. He laughed with such contagiousness that it consumed Harry. Harry found himself warmed by the sound of it. He began laughing at himself too. 

"M'sorry Harry." Louis said stepping to Harry and extending a small hand offering to assist Harry up.

Harry looked at the hand before he took it. His brain said that it was delicate. And when Harry accepted the offer his mind said that the hand was soft too. Soft and delicate. 

Louis assisted Harry to his feet.

Once again Harry was surprised.

Louis pulled Harry up with such force that Harry found once he was on his feet he nearly fell forward into Louis. Again Louis laughed and Harry felt warmed. He stood there looking down at Louis. Why was Louis looking up at him so smiley? And pretty?

Louis was grinning at him but Harry felt like Louis was asking something. 

Was it just a smile? Or something more? 

Harry looked at Louis' lips for distraction. And in that split second he realized Louis' eyes went to study his lips too. 

Harry let his glance cascade down Louis' neck and land on his collarbones that were exposed by the loose-neck tee he wore. And then Harry realized Louis was looking at his collarbones in return, mirroring him, maybe even letting his eyes fall a bit lower tracing the path of the chain which was around Harry's neck and disappeared under Harry's shirt.

"We, we, we should go," Harry said. Louis was back to staring at Harry's mouth. Harry turned and started toward the trail. He got there and he stopped and nodded to Louis a question of "okay?" And Louis nodded a reply following with Snowball in tow. 

Harry wanted to simply walk on because of his nervousness but he couldn't help but cringe at how Louis had the rope unkempt and a mess. Had Snowball not been so experienced and forgiving she would have stepped all over it. Harry had to fix this before it led to Louis having a wreck while trying to lead a horse like this.

"No, no, Louis. Not like that let me show you." 

Harry took the rope from Louis. He stood beside the little horse taking the lead rope where it was a couple feet from meeting her halter with the hand closest to her. Then he took all the excess which he'd made into a few loops but held at the center so his hand wasn't inside the loops.

"Now see the thing is you want to hold the rope with your hand that is closest to her where she is not too far and not too close. Either extreme causes a problem so this much is about right. Then all this excess you loop, but like I said about tieing her to you, never have anything attached to you through a loop that could pull tight if a horse runs and then the drag you. So see," Harry said happy feel g assure by the way that Louis was interested in his advice and not rolling his eyes over the precautions, "hold it like this."

Louis tried to take the rope from Harry and the result was taking each part with the worst hand and they were much a tangled mess. Some giggling and swapping places and the rope was sorted out. 

"Like this?" Louis said.

Harry answered "Perfect." 

But Harry wasn't even looking at the hold with the ropes.

They walked back on what was a narrow trail with Snowball taking a good quick stride anxious to get her afternoon feed of grain. Her walk surprised Louis who being a green-horned didn't know that horses lolloigag going away from home, but bee-line heading back. The little horse and Louis were now in front of Harry on the trail. Louis kept looking back at Harry like to verify he was there. Following. Harry blushed because he realized the only thing he was seeing was the way Louis' bum moved in the tight pants he wore. His arse looked scrumscious. 

After a while Harry realized he was getting stiff in his pants but he couldn't make himself avert his eyes. He called out to Louis and simply asked if he could go in front of them on the narrow trail with no explanation to Louis.

Leading the way back along the trail Harry looked mostly at his feet. Every so often he looked over a shoulder and when he did he found Louis' eyes met his with this eye-crinkley smile that was killer cute. Louis proudly showed that he kept his hands on the safe places with the rope as Harry had instructed. Something about Louis' smiles, and his blush, hinted to Harry that just maybe, perhaps in turn, Louis was looking at Harry's butt now.

They reached the place where the trail fed into a field and the flat land surrounding the ranch center. Harry looked back expecting, hoping, to catch Louis checking out his bum. He was ready with a flirty remark to surprise the this pixie with hope it would break the feeling he had like a spell-of-nervousness had been cast upon him. 

Instead he turned and saw Louis standing frozen in place about ten feet back up the trail. Buzzing around Louis was a bug, something like a bee perhaps and Louis appeared petrified. Oddly though, Louis wasn't panicking. He was just frozen still. 

Harry walked back up the trail and got a clear view of the insect intruder. 

"Those aren't too aggressive Louis. Are you allergic to stings?" 

Louis raised his eyebrows making a face that was adorable beyond Harry's imagination. He looked at Harry without moving anything other than his eyes. Then he spoke without moving his mouth too much as best he could, "Really? You sure they aren't going to sting?" 

Harry smiled at this mime-boy and reassured him. 

"Those bees are common this time of year and they are attracted to sweet little things." No sooner had Harry offered the assurance than the insects flew off. 

Louis relaxed and became animated. His carefree, live-and-let-live approach was attractive narcotic.

Like with the butterfly encounter this wildlife experience flipped Louis into excited mode. He asked Harry rapid-fire questions about the bees. Like a child. Or a chipmunk on speed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments? The next chapter will go into more of the Niall-Zayn awkwardness. (It's not racism but if not stated it could imply, be advised, if you know ahead it won't b.e confusing and it becomes more clear in time. No hate fiction here.)
> 
> Also, yes, about Five Sauce; fictional Five Sauce are not really so very bad. Adore them I do, so right, it's all working out conflict among the lads. No shaming here like I've done with Winston, Grimshaw, Beckham, Clooney or The Wanted in my other fictions.


	4. Wandering glances and wishful thinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newbie Louis gets pranked again and because of the situation he gets a glimpse of the dynamics between Liam, Zayn and Niall.

It was an easy job for Louis. Or so it was intended to be. 

Kyla asked Micheal, one of the lads from Australia, to show Louis how to clean the bridles which needed a touch up before a weekend event where several bus loads of kids were coming to Bar 3 to compete on horseback. The event was a little bit horseshow and a little bit rodeo. It always required a great deal of prep to get everything cleaned up and ready. 

Michael was happy to "help" inexperienced, rookie Louis. Little did Kyla know about the rumors surrounding a prank played on Louis by two of Michael's countrymen which had failed. The Australians were just waiting to have another go at Louis. 

Michael got Louis started with cleaning the bridles and then went on to his job for the day. Louis was left alone outside of the barns near the tack room with his assignment. Boredom sat in. Louis found himself watching two other lads from the UK working as he mindlessly went through a huge number of bridles cleaning them like Michael instructed. 

It was Niall and Zayn that Louis had the opportunity to observe. 

They were busy not too far from where Louis was stationed to clean the tack. However, unlike Louis, their assignment was a back-breaking job of hand stacking some hay. These bales of hay were picked up off a hay field last by the bale wagon because they all were slightly out of square. Lopsided bales form occasionally when a baler has the string tension out of balance. Such bales usally collapse when brought in by machine and can only be successfully restacked by hand. 

So there was Zayn and Niall working in the hot sun, stacking hay. Louis couldn't help but watch. 

There was an interesting human behavior story unfolding at Bar 3. Observing from afar, one could see it. 

The two did not speak much. Maybe because their work was so physically straining to lift and move the heavy bales. Or maybe they were both as distracted in the tediousness of their work as Louis was in his. At least that was how it seemed to Louis as he watched them. 

Zayn and Niall were stacking hay near the outdoor area that had rodeo shoots where two people worked sorting some animals. One of them was the head wrangler. The other was his favorite assistant enrolled in the youth program, Liam. 

Liam was riding his trusty sorrel horse, wearing his cowboy garb, glistening with a slight sheen of perspiration as he helped the wrangler sorting steer. As Liam worked the livestock under the instruction of his mentor, he was the living incarnation of every cowgirl's dream. Each muscle seemed deliberatly flexed. His jaw was set with a masculine line that suited perfectly the romanticized look of the iconic American cowboy.

This perfection was not lost on Zayn and Niall. Unlike Liam, who sat atop horse and looked so much like glowing, chiseled perfection, the two of them were reduced to something of another sort. They could best be described as dust balls of hay that dripped sweat. One could barely recognized them as the day progressed on and they became more dirt, grass and sweat coated. Niall took on such a beet-red color as his face flushed with exertion that the limited conversation between them was usually just Zayn inquiring, "Niall, are you okay? Want another water break?"

They would alternate, one than the other going over near where Louis was cleaning bridles to have a copious amount of water, then return to their difficult task. Usually, each of them had a word or two with Louis who was as bored as he could be and tried to think of anything to ask them about. A mentor or counselor passing by would usually break up their conversations and send Zayn and Niall back to their hellish job.

In time Louis questions became more targeted, less random. He'd noticed something about them working just a short distance away, Liam in the background a bit further off. Casually catching glimpses of a hidden dynamic invovling the three, Louis waited for the next thirsty person to stop nearby. It was Niall. 

"Are you and Zayn supposed to get all that hay stacked today?" Louis asked Niall as Niall guzzled a liter of water in one continuous drink.

"Suppose so. They wanted it stacked up, neat before the weekend when the kids are here." Niall answered and pointed at the huge mass of bridles that Louis had turned into somewhat of a giant bird's nest of parts. "Aren't you supposed to get those all cleaned today?"

"Um, hum." Louis said and he tried not to show that he wasn't sure which piece of unbuckled leather went back with which other piece.

Niall could see Louis' frustration and wondered why Louis took the bridles all completely apart. 

"Zayn's a bit distracted isn't he?" Louis asked diverting Niall's attention away his embarrassing mess and back to the intrigue that was played out in front of him at the ranch. 

The two man job of stacking hay was one such that while one person was grabbing and pulling the hay over to the forming stack, the other was taking it and placing it in a growing stand of bales. If one of them lagged, the other got delayed.

Niall looked over to the corral where Liam was working. He stared at Liam as he replied to Louis' question about Zayn. Zayn's distraction. 

"Yep. He seems to have eyes for something other than his work today."

Louis smiled and hummed agreement with the inuendo. Louis thought it was funny that Niall blushed as claimed it was Zayn who was staring at Liam. Just Zayn.

Not much later it was Zayn getting a drink from the water near where Louis worked. Their conversation was much the same as what had just transpired between Louis and Niall.

"So Zayn, are you going to get that all stacked in time? Niall seems much more interested in other things other than the hay."

Zayn looked over into the corral and watched Liam, just as Niall had while he had taken a break for water. Zayn drank some water and lit a cigarette. He didn't answer right away, he just smoked, had some more water. Eventually as he stomped the partially smoked cigarette out, he walked off saying to Louis with a reply cast casually over his shoulder, "He always watches Liam. But that's not my business."

The day went on like that. Two lads watching Liam. Louis observing the entire thing. Louis becoming invested in the three lad's secret dynamics and increasingly confused with his growing assortment of disassembled pieces of bridles.

***

The day was well past mid afternoon and peak heat when both Zayn and Niall went to the water hydrant near the table where Louis had a complete mess of bridle parts. Most of the parts were cleaned, but none of the bridles were assembled. 

With a snort of a laugh at the mess Zayn asked, "Louis do you know what you're doing?"

Louis stood there looking a little clueless. He bit a lip and surveyed his situation. Niall and Zayn surveyed him. 

Louis had splashed water on himself enough times to stay cool in his all black attire that he looked as much a wet mess as the pile of dissembled leather pieces that were spread out before him. It was all that Zayn and Niall good do to keep their laughs to a minimum. They were almost as wet as Louis in their sweat-drenched state, but Louis looked wet in a clean, appealing kind of way. His shirt clung to him and where his skin was exposed -- ankles, collarbones, arms -- he looked like a boy of summer. Golden. Glistening. Niall and Zayn, however were a contrast; wet with sweaty globs of grit, dirt and seeds. 

"Yeah Louis, who told you to take them all the apart like this? Wouldn't it be better to do one at a time so you could put each one back together before you get them all confused?" Niall asked Louis the question as he picked up a couple pieces and started to reassemble one bridle knowing full well the huge problem Louis had created for himself. 

Michael hadn't shared that part of the process with Louis. Louis looked at the huge array of leathers straps and scrunched his face but decided to keep Michael's deceit to himself. 

"Yes...seems like..." Louis was starting to think of what to say when he looked pass where Zayn and Niall stood in front of him perplexed at his conundrum. Something caught his attention and he focused just on that thing. That person. 

Niall and Zayn were each were picking up pieces like they were inclined to try to help Louis sort out his huge pile of confused straps and bridle bits. That was obviously their intent, to help him. Never mind that they each were still dripping sweat from their labor and coated in sticky, scratchy hay. As much as they may have needed to get out of their hay encrusted clothes and shower, they were so very thoughtfully helping Louis with the problem and sorting it out with empathy for his huge predicament. 

Neither Zayn nor Niall knew that riding up behind them, finished with sorting steers, was Liam, the subject of their day long wandering glances and wishful thinking. He had approached quietly astride his horse closing the gap behide the dusty, grimy-looking, hay-encrusted pair. 

Apparently, wandering glances and wishful thinking, was precisely how Louis had read their behavior as he watched them work through the day. He watched them both work and watched them both dreamily peeking at Liam. He had listened to them both claim that the other was infatuated. They each pretended they themselves were not enchanted.

Liam rode ever more close. Awareness of his mounted approach dawned on Zayn and Niall rather last second. It made both of them halt their conversation with Louis. Their movements were insink. Except for the widening of their eyes, each froze. Each felt a tingling sensation on the back of their neck as they realized where, to whom, Louis' attention had shifted. Shamed at their unappealing physical condition, both made a very slow turn. Their faces seemed to reflect their shared thought. Dread. Embarrassment. Like Ciderella unprepared for going to the ball in rags. 

The two lads looked about as unsavory as a person could after having worked in the conditions surrounding the stacking of hay. No sooner had they, turned to Liam, each embarrassed as if meeting the queen herself in an unkempt state, than they were both hit with a very perfectly directed bucket of water having been thrown on them unsuspectingly by Louis. 

The water was cold and slightly sudsy. It had enough soapiness to transform them both immediately from looking like sunbaked, grass-coated prison workers to boys of summer much like Louis. Wet and glistening.

It was a shock and both blurted out a startled, "What the blooming hell!" kind of remark, but their words choked back with the the reality of what it brought to them.

Liam's attention went from "ignoring them" in passing to looking right at the three wet boys. 

Most overtly Liam's eyes went to fix on Zayn. It was a look of hunger or lust. Liam's soft brown eyes deepened in color to something like black coffee and his glance trailed slowly from Zayn's exquisite face down to his feet, then back up with one more glance at perfection before his consciousness regained its self-control and he resumed looking where he was riding to. 

Once Liam averted his eyes both Niall and Zayn turned back to Louis who stood their with two empty water buckets in hand. Louis' smirk-laden smile suggested his conclusion of human behavior. It was no laughing matter. Zayn and Niall both harbored hidden feelings for the same guy and that guy had made his pick. He chose Zayn. 

Louis knew the thing that was the thing with the three of them now. A study of them throughout the day and the slip of emotion on Liam's face when he rode past revealed it all. 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a perfect, inspiring Nsfw gif that I would love to insert into the next chapter, Threesome. If anyone wants to message me about how to do this I would be so very grateful! 
> 
> Thanks for reading and please comment!


	5. Threesome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To Louis the ot3 of Liam, Zayn and Niall becomes an open book. Zouis' friendship, brothers in arms, is cemented. Liam finds he's finally able to connect with someone [Louis] platonically. Louis becomes instrumental in pulling Niall from Niall's insecurities with Zayn's help. (Lots of oral.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is long but hopefully the smut makes it worth it.

Laughing at the pile of leather-strap chaos was how Kyla found Louis, Zayn and Niall when she returned to Louis expecting to find a finished collection of cleaned bridles all set and ready to go. 

But no, it was a huge pile of disconnected straps, metal bits and a sheepish looking Louis that she discovered. The only functional bridle was one that Niall had just finished reassembling as she walked up. 

Michael had set Louis up in his prank to double Louis' work. Louis could have blamed Michael when Kyla asked Louis why he completely unfastened all of the bridles, but he did not. 

"We have to get these all back together Louis so ..." Kyla said with an expression of uncertainty on her face about the predicament Louis created. 

Zayn nudged Niall. Knowing that Niall had extensive equestrian knowledge, was good with tack, Zayn pushed him a little hoping Niall had the same conclusion as he. 

Niall jumped in understanding Zayn's unspoken hint. Besides, Louis was one of theirs, or becoming so, potentially. Admittedly, all of them from the UK had not really come together cohesively like the boys from other parts of the world, but Louis was bringing out a hopeful feeling in Zayn. Maybe it was because Louis didn't place blame on someone else for his prank-induced mistake. Or maybe it was how Louis had just spared them the embarrassment of being seen by Liam looking so horrifically sweaty and dirty. Zayn couldn't know for certain what it was, but he hoped Niall felt the same potential of brotherhood with Louis as well. 

"What if we helped Louis with these tonight? If the three of us work together we should be able to get them all back restored..." Niall proposed to Kyla motivated by Zayn's nudge.

Kyla smiled. "Niall that would be great actually. Let me see if each of you can be rescheduled, if you have counseling tonight. And first", she added looking at the uncomfortably dirty Niall and Zayn, "maybe you should both have a quick shower and change, ey?" 

While Kyla went to verify about the threesome's schedules she sent Louis to go get some dinner while the other two showered. Louis went into the large dining room and he was immediately watched by the four lads from Australia who seemed keenly interested in him. They laughed and talked making it clear they were amused at his expense.

Louis grabbed some food and looked around for someplace to have his dinner quickly. He knew Kyla might need help to relocate the incompleted project into a lit spot of the tack areas where they would have good light for a long night's work.

He saw Harry was sitting alone but he realized that Harry was sitting at one of the private tables where the youth would eat when they were having a meeting their counselor over dinner. Harry hadn't been joined yet. His body language suggested that he was dreading his meeting as he pushed food around on his plate without eating. Louis watched Harry while he was looking for a condiments for his burger. 

Harry's curls were tucked into the headband he wore. Louis was struck by how young Harry looked, angelic. He was thinking about Harry as a symbol of purity when Harry did something that flipped the image. Harry picked up a dill picked and put one end in his mouth without biting to just suck on it as if extracting the excess liquid. Louis found himself drifting into some fantasy about those berry-colored plump lips and what they might feel like. Nothing angelic about it; more like the devil actually. 

Louis' sinful thoughts about Harry's mouth were evicted when an arm reached across his for some mustard and the words "excuse me" we're spoken with a Wolverhampton accent. Those two words broke Louis from the spell he'd fallen under staring at Harry.

There was Liam Payne, subject of enthralled captivation for Zayn and Niall standing there, also eating early. Something about Liam suggested he was intending to have the opportunity to eat alone before the prime dinner rush started.

"Liam?" Louis said breathlessly. It was like his staring at Harry had stolen Louis' breath catching him vacant when the need to speak caught him by surprise. Not only did his voice come out softer than normal, but his eyelashes fluttered a bit too much too like his eyes were unprepared to be pulled away from Harry.

"Oh, Louis? Right? We haven't formally met yet. Your from..."

"Doncaster."

"Doncaster. M' from Wolverhampton myself."

"I hear that. Um," Louis said. He caught a fleeting glimpse of a slight flinch by Liam. With the flinch a flash of blush, embarrassment, crossed Liam's face. Liam's home town was one known for its poorer economy, more working class folks. Louis didn't miss a beat in recovering from the perceptible discomfort caused by his statement, "I meant I was told that. That you're from Wolverhampton." 

Liam looked shyly at Louis and seemed relieved. He nodded and didn't say more as he just turned to walk away. Louis let Liam get a few steps away before he rushed to catch up to Liam.

He was going to ask Liam about sitting together. They both heard Michael laughing with his mates as Louis passed nearby them. That was perfect for bridging the gap between he and Liam. So Louis ignored them. He would deal with them later. It was Liam he was interested in; not the attension-seeking, Aussie prankster. 

Something wafted off of Liam that was intense and deeply emotional. His loner habits, the infatuation he created in others, the softness in his eyes...all of it was so compelling. Why was Liam such a loner? Why did he seem so machismo and yet so puppy like? Louis was curious.

Taking advantage of the hunch that Liam heard the Australians laughing at him too, Louis broke into conversation using their laughs to his advantage. 

"Liam, hey, um, could I sit with you?" Louis looked back at the four Australians faking a nervousness for effect. 

Liam stopped and looked down at his diminutive countryman. Louis tilted his head as if to suggested the taunting Australians bothered him. 

Liam also glanced over at the Australians. They always averted their eyes when he looked straight at them. Once he swelched he'd their plans to bully Liam the hierarchy was established. He looked back at Louis who was waiting for a response with an adorable head-tilting, questioning-thingy. Something about Louis pleading look was as cute as a meerkat. Who could deny that hopeful expression? 

"Sure Louis. Okay. But usually I like to eat alone, be alone."

***

Leaving out any details that might tread close sensitive subjects, things like his "10.2" nickname, Liam found himself telling Louis the story of his experience as a target of the Australian's pranks when he arrived. With kindness for Louis' position and sincerity he meant to share how all new youth go through a prank period as the new arrivals at Bar 3. 

Liam had meant to keep his personal stories limited to just that, the subject of what every new lad must endure. Yet in a short time Liam realized he was hearing himself speak about all sorts of his experiences at the ranch. Surprisingly, he found that he was actually truly enjoying sharing these stories too. 

Then it dawned on him that he'd never revealed so much to anyone in the program other than his mentors or his counselors. Not once had he even wanted to talk to another program attendee, not like this, not even with Harry when they had their need-driven sex. Or in the aftermath of their sex when normally, most lovers would be tender, more open, lower their defensive guard. But then, Liam and Harry were not lovers, Liam reconciled. 

Unprepared for this openness that Louis brought out in him, it occurred to Liam that he had actually not given Louis a chance say anything about what the Aussies had tried in their pranks. He only knew that they had twice initated some plan. Louis only said that the first time he had been spared by Zayn. What the prank entailed Louis didn't say. 

It was the mention of Zayn that lured Liam wish to change the subject from himself. He wanted to make it easier to glean details he craved about Zayn by tricking Louis into unknowingly disclosing them. Liam was curious. Zayn saved Louis. Anything about Zayn he craved in great detail. Louis' reveal would be gold to Liam. 

It had also not been at all lost on Liam that both Zayn and Niall where socializing with Louis during the day when ever they could use water as an excuse while they stacked hay. From his horse-top vantage point he had a good view of the things going on in the surrounding area. It was also, no accident that Liam rode right up behind the three of them when he passed through at the end of his work day. 

So with Louis sitting across from him as they ate Liam tried to think what to do. 

He looked at Louis and felt this struggle with how to deceptively get Louis talking. He realized he was utterly mute from the high stakes risk he felt. It had bold enough already to open up to the new guy, a stranger, like he had about himself, yet alone tiptoe near subject-Zayn. Zayn... 

Liam caught himself thinking how perfect Zayn was, physically. The defined cheekbones of a model, his angular jawline, all those things. Then he looked at Louis. Really looked at him. 

Liam realized for the first time that some of the same adjectives could describe either Zayn and Louis. Yet they were two individuals of completely different forms of perfection. Louis looked so small, sunny, bright-eyed, so pretty. Zayn might not be much taller than Louis, but Liam would never describe him as either small or pretty. What was it? Zayn was smoldering, soft, secretive. Zayn was safe. Liam sensed something sweet about Zayn. Louis? Maybe sweet. Perhaps. Mostly though there was mischievousness in Louis. Liam was a serious kind of guy; serious and mischievous did not mix. 

Liam offered Louis a smile as he considered all these things and Louis smiled back with the prettiest of smiles to be directed at Liam in a long time. 

Louis and his pretty smile. Zayn and his perfection. Pretty and perfect. Louis and Zayn... Liam got a disturbing twist in his gut. He was actually comparing the beauty of two male forms. This had to stop. 

He decided he would ask Louis about the Aussies whose rowdy comments he heard occassionally from behind him as if they were trying to keep Louis attension on the pressure they brought to bear. Like hint or a threat there was more to come. 

Perhaps because of that, or maybe because of Liam's long pause, Louis unexpectedly jumped up saying, "Oops. I have to go!" 

As he rose to his feet with his frenetic energy he collided into Harry who had approached appearing right behind Louis before either Liam or Louis were aware. In Harry's hands had been the tray he had cleared when he finished his meal so when Louis stood unexpectedly the tray tipped into Harry. Harry was slimed with various reminants of his meal. 

Louis laughed immediately. Harry looked down at Louis struck speechless being caught off guard and clumsy.

Harry strugged to get out words of apology, or explanation, but Louis appeared to be unconcerned in the slightest. He cocked his head and reached for Harry and took a finger swipe of some frosting from unfinished cake that was on Harry's shirt and licked it off. Then he used the same finger to pull loose a curl from Harry's scarf much like he'd done on their previous encounter in the mountain meadow.

Louis beamed with a smile that made the skin around his eyes form crinkles as he said, "Curly, nice running into you!" And with that Louis took his own tray stepping away leaving with nothing more said than that. Harry gawked at Louis still rendered speechless.

***

Louis was out the door before the first words were exchanged between Harry and Liam. Louis' immediate departure was a matter of necessity. He'd been sitting there with Liam when he saw Niall walking pass the dining area heading to help him with the bridle reassembling. 

Louis caught Niall and turned him toward the dining hall door. He talked quickly to the Irishman as he pushed Niall along in front of him heading back toward the door to the dining hall. 

"Niall...Liam is in there eating and I think he needs company. He keeps talking about the horse stuff and it's too boring for me. Go sit with him and have something to eat before you come help, yeah?"

Niall looked flustered and nervous but he was clearly motivated by the idea that the long night of fixing tack would go better if he indeed ate first. And with Liam! 

This is how Zayn got to the tack area to help Louis and Niall to find there was only Louis working. Louis was sorting pieces by types; reins in one pile, cheek straps in another, brown bands, nose bands, curb straps and so on. 

"Where's Niall?" 

"I told him he should eat first while they still are serving before he came help me. You should too."

Zayn's expression said a lot. His voice said nothing. 

Louis looked at Zayn. While the pieces of tack were befuddling to him, all the pieces of the dynamics between Liam, Niall and Zayn were not. To Louis those things were obvious. Hidden crushes and secret desires. 

Zayn was very misunderstood Louis had learned going back to his first couple of days. There was a way that Zayn affected most people because of his incredibly perfect looks combined with his quiet nature. For Zayn and Louis their relationship had started with Zayn's act of saving Louis who would have certainly been obliterated by the spirited stallion. 

Two things came out of that which had cemented Louis' view of the mysterious and misunderstood Zayn Malik. 

First, Zayn was just shy. He only initated getting to know Louis by necessity, the act of saving Louis. If it hadn't been for that they might have never exchanged more than a few words which was the norm for Zayn. Because of the rescue, and Louis' babbling with the shock of near death, Louis had probably learned more from Zayn in an hour than most the people at Bar 3 learned about him in his entire time at the ranch program. 

Conversation had flooded between them in an organic natural way because Louis had been sincerely shocked. The near death created circumstance where Zayn was less guarded, the truth of Zayn's heart could be revealed. Compassionate, shy, creative.

Another secret thing Louis learned about Zayn was just how extremely passionate a person he was. His shy quality heightened his mystique. His striking good looks disarmed people. The combination of the two made for unfair speculation. But in the unguarded conversation that was shared between Zayn and Louis much was revealed.

Zayn and Louis both had similar family stories. Loving mothers who were the constant in their lives, the responsibility of sisters in a world to ripe with sexism and a shared tendency in both lads to throw themselves fearlessly into childhood battles with complete impulsiveness when protecting their keep. Passionate. Fiercely protective. 

The combination is what had landed Zayn at Bar 3 but when his offenses were considered they were nothing like the sort of thing that should have required such an extreme intervention. Zayn was in fact, sweet. Empathic. Devoted to those he loved and befriended.

All these things about Zayn were spoken in the silence that shrouded Zayn. It was what most people interpreted as "mysterious". Louis, however, could see it. He could relate to it. Like they were partners in crime. 

Zayn who never revealed himself was conflicted by Louis' encouragement. He wanted to go to the dining hall. To see Liam. Not that he would approach Liam. No. That was not Zayn's style. And Niall was there. With Liam. Afterall, easy openness was Niall's style.

Everything revolved around Liam.

"No, seriously Zayn. You should go join Niall and Liam."

Zayn shrugged and feined interest in some of the pieces of the bridles spread everywhere that Louis was sorting.

"Seriously Zee," Louis said, "You got to go. Harry was getting there and I don't think you can leave Liam alone with the two of them. He's got such a chip on his shoulder about money, their money."

Zayn stopped his fiddling with bridle pieces and shot back for clarification, "What makes you think Liam will see me as any different than them? I know the stories about me."

Louis gave an exasperated sigh. Zayn thought it was because Louis realized he had put the pieces of a bridle together backwards and had to start undoing it. The sass in his tone loaded his words. Zayn was the cause of his frustration.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know, you're like the Prince of Persia, Heir to Egyptian Pharaohs, Sultan of Saudi Arabia. I get that. But to me you skew more Bradford bunny. Adorable, shy, pussy cat. And Liam is a puppy. An absolute love."

Louis paused and looked at Zayn. Zayn felt a weird mix of insulted and elated. He wasn't sure which comments were putting him down and which were lifting him up. Actually, he thought, he kinda liked the feeling he got from Louis interpretations of him because Louis clearly understood he was person who was between two different worlds. No one had ever gotten that about him before.

Zayn found himself smiling. "Liam is a puppy?" 

"Um hum" Louis said trying to put another bridle together using the one Niall assembled as a guide this time.

"And I'm a kitten?"

"Yep"

Zayn scratched his forehead and dared to ask. "So how does your animal-character world make it so Liam is going to welcome me showing up. The guy is a loner, Louis. Except for occasional sightings with Harry, Liam is always on his own. By choice. We, those of us from the UK are the only lads who are from the same place who haven't made any effort to become a gang and it's mostly because of Liam. He doesn't like any of us."

"So you say, yes!" Louis exclaimed. 

This time it was clear the excited "yes" was in response to finally getting a bridle connected right. The preceding three words were response to Zayn. 

"You don't agree?" Zayn asked.

"Not in the slightest, Zee. Don't you see the way he looks at you? I batted my eyelashes and stared into his eyes with the most adorable look of interest and he was flat-line with me. Niall is practically coming in his jeans when Liam is anywhere nearby and Liam is clueless about Niall's interest. He's gone for you Zayn."

Louis finshed his words with a shift in his tone from barrating narration to softness. As his voice shifted he dropped his bridle and slipped close to Zayn. Before Zayn could think Louis had slipped and arm around him and was running the other hand up the back of Zayn's neck and gripping hair with it. Zayn closed his eyes and the suddenness of this intimacy and he felt Louis' lips ghosting his neck.

Zayn went tense and still. What the actual fuck was Louis doing?

"Louis?"

"It's okay Zee. I'm not that into you. More leaning to the cherub-face, curly-locked, green-eyed vixen. We just need to loosen you up a bit..."

With that Zayn threw Louis away from him. Loosen him up? What?

"Na, na, no!"

Louis was tossed into the table he had been working at, but he was laughing and not phased by the rejection.

Zayn blushed and babbled his explanation. "I mean, um, so that's a part of it. The thing, you see. M'not sure I'm the get loosened kind. I like girls, or um, I like the part of the guy, I mean...that's it."

Zayn's shyness and his lack of words was adorable and sweet. Louis' laugh changed from teasing to compassion. He stepped back into Zayn's space and once again wrapped them together. This time his touch felt much more brotherly, less overtly sexual. Zayn tipped himself into it liking the way Louis embraced him both physically and metaphorically.

"Okay Zayn. It's okay. So are you saying you do like Liam but just don't know how the whole thing works?"

***

It was an hour later when Niall showed up. Dinner hours would be closing and he must have realized that Zayn had not come through the building to eat and should have something before they got mired in fixing tack. He found that indeed Zayn had gone directly from a shower to help work on the bridles and that Louis and Zayn had made a good start. 

In fact, Niall found them working with their heads close together and whispering conversation. When he joined them Zayn's eyes met his and they were uncharacteristically less defensive. Less secretive. Less mysterious. Zayn was smiling and Niall thought he detected a blush from surprising Zayn with his sudden arrival.

What were they talking about? Zayn got up offering his chair to Niall saying he needed to go have a smoke and eat something. Zayn quickly left Niall and Louis alone to continue on reconstructing the bridles.

Niall sat down and took some of the parts for the more complicated style of bridles. Most of the western tack was fairly straight forward; the English gear was less obvious. Niall began with that. The feeling of whispered secrets gnawed at him. Eventually, one bridle reconstructed, Niall had to ask.

"You two seem close. Any chance you've cracked the mystery of Zayn?"

Louis reached over and ruffled Niall's hair teasingly. 

"Zayn's not so much a mystery Niall. He's just shy. And confused. And inexperienced. And a lot like you."

Niall laughed. How could he and Zayn ever be considered similar? 

"How do you figure that?"

"M' ignoring the physical side, although you're both very fit, but I mean you're both shy. And don't get me wrong but I think you are confused too and I know you're inexperienced." 

Louis had spoken nonchalantly with a causalness that was unusual and disarmingly fresh. To Niall people were always so complicated. He couldn't figure most people's motivations because he was a bit on the innocent side. So yes, Louis was right, he was confused. And inexperienced? And fit? Did Louis say fit?

"What do you mean...by fit? You think I'm fit?"

Louis stopped what he was doing just briefly enough to ruffled Niall's hair again. 

"Yes. Fit. Not like you're my type, or anything. This is just friends, Zee and I discussed you. Your, um, your..." Niall was expecting another hair ruffle but Louis made a hand gesture that was hard to interpret, but clearly he was referring to something a bit nsfw. With that he redirected the conversation with a question to Niall.

"How was Liam?"

The unexpected, complete redirection question was like an implication. Sure, Niall had taken a long time. Did Louis, and Zayn, think there was some post-dinner connection? How was Liam? What did Louis mean by how w a s Liam ?

Niall felt his throat constrict, his chest tighten and he blushed. 

Liam. 

The love of Niall's life. 

At least he was the love in Niall's dreams. All of these were embarrassing and pathetic, or so Niall thought. He'd wake with wet sheets and a memory of things in his dreams that he had been raised to believe were not "normal". Things he dreamed about Liam. Things romantic --- like their wedding which his dreams revisited --- and things sexual. And Louis' innuendo about intimacy between he and Liam? That was just too, too much for Niall. 

Niall's anxiety-clouded awareness gained some focus that Louis was responding to his anxiety attack with tenderness. He felt Louis hands on him; one was rubbing his back soothingly and the other was patting his leg as if to reassure. 

In a soft reassuring voice Louis said, "It's okay Niall. Really. I wasn't trying to upset you. I just meant was Liam friendly. That's all. He's a tough one, with his strong, silent-loner thing."

Niall looked at Louis and nodded an indication it was alright. Even though he didn't feel that way. Before he could try to cover his emotions the tears started and his embarrassment deepened. 

Shame. Self-consciousness. Self-loathing. These emotions came off the prejudices of how he was raised. What Niall was taught was that two men together was deviance. Against "god's plan". 

Louis slid closer to Niall and the hand that was on Niall's reassuringly on leg slipped to Niall's chin. Louis kissed Niall's cheeks like he was trapping tears. Before Niall knew it Louis had come to step over and across, straddling Niall's legs where he sat on Niall's thighs. Louis cupped both hands on Niall's face continuing to gently kiss the tears away. 

Niall felt a strange shift in his core. His anxiety ebbed, like this tenderness with a person of his gender was natural for him; it felt, well, right? It didn't feel "deviant". But the conscious thought prevailing was one of awkwardness because this person, this lad, this was not the one of his dreams. Yet Louis was kissing Niall's lips now. Licking at them. With seamlessness Louis had his tongue slid into Niall's mouth and he began deepening a kiss. 

Niall realized no kiss between he and a girl had ever felt this right. He liked it. He liked that Louis body was firm like his; Louis' face had a scruffiness like Niall's. Their scents were each naturally more woodsy and boy. This was totally "right". But then...the person. The person, Niall realized, not the gender, was wrong.

Niall pushed Louis away and the result was tipping Louis off his lap onto the floor. Louis unceremoniously landed hard on his bum. 

All anxiety had departed through their kiss so now Niall was free to feel embarrasment. For being touched by a lad, kissed, and for pushing him away.

But Louis was laughing about it. He seemed quite unfettered by Niall's rejection. Louis repositioned so he was on his knees and he rested his lower arms on Niall's thighs. 

Firmly bracing each of Niall's hips with a hand Louis laughed through his words, "It's okay, Niall, I get it. M'not your type. Don't worry. You're not mine either. But Zayn and I discussed it. I get it. You're both crazy for Liam. And I'm guessing from, given that kiss ...you are very, very inexperienced, at least with...other lads."

Louis had shifted so his hands were playing with the closures on Niall's pants as he continued speaking and doing things. He pushed forward so he parted Niall's legs the tiniest bit and he popped open the top button of Niall's jeans. His eyes met Niall's with inquiring directness and determination, Louis asked, "Has another bloke ever sucked you off?"

***

It was mutual. They had discussed it. 

Upon returning to the tack room Zayn was not entirely surprised at his reception. Or lack there of. 

Afterall, Louis had his mouth full.

With Niall's cock.

But they had discussed Louis intending to do this so it wasn't completely when "shocking" to discover...Louis on his knees...in front of a seated Niall...deep throating cock. 

Okay maybe it was just a little surprising that Louis managed to get Niall to agree with so short the relationship between Niall and Louis. 

Prior to sending Zayn off to have dinner With Liam, they had thoroughly discussed Zayn's Liam-infatuation. And Niall's. 

Zayn confessed to Louis that he was hopelessly in love with a Liam. That was a problem for many reasons. Liam seemed unavailable, for one thing. Niall was obviously also crazy about Liam which was another problem. And there was Zayn's uncertainty about his path, the whole who-plays-what-role in the event there is any opportunity for fucking to be done. Zayn felt obligate-top. Additionally, there was the complete wild card, which was Harry. Something was with Harry and Liam. 

The root of every "assumption" about Liam's sexuality, "assumption" being the word Louis suggested Zayn use until the reality was revealed, was based on Harry. 

Harry's friendship with his countrymen was always orbiting in some land of the bizarre because Harry was in a word, nympho. He had no control. Zayn revealed to Louis what was known and what was speculated about Harry, why he was at Bar 3. It all centered on Harry being a sexual deviant of sort. Promiscuous. 

Zayn typically did not bother in the affairs of others but when it came to Harry, Harry who was overt in sharing about himself, ther was no avoiding. Harry's problem, which brought him to Bar 3, was his predatory sexual conduct.

Harry made it a point to advertise his position, that he liked sex, a lot. Most of the time Harry talked about explicit things in excess. It didn't bother him the slightest to be open and out. Or to blatantly discuss his fantasies about this person or that person. Once he had even made a pass at one of his counselor's. 

The man, twenty-seven in years, a Brit too, had come to do an internship at Bar 3 for his Uni studies in psychology. His name was Nick Grimshaw. He arrived at the ranch and before he had even started his unpacking, the program was sending him, well, packing, because Harry had ensnared him. It took a matter of hours! 

Just like in the offense that brought Harry to Bar 3, he was caught pounding an older man in a conference room. There was Nick Grimshaw spread open on the group counseling session's large meeting table. Harry balls-deep. 

Grimshaw was gone within hours of his arrival. From then on anyone at Bar 3 was unlikely to doubt that Harry's comments about his sexual exploits could be true. In time his counselors got out ahead of his unbridled behaviors but among peers all the lads tended to hold Harry in a a special category. 

Following that Harry once vaguely implied to Zayn and Niall that Liam Payne was "a great top". It was something Zayn never wanted to dissect after Harry slipped that tidbit into a conversation. The idea that Harry and Liam had been together, when it seemed Liam was a man of "standards", was devastating to Zayn. Thus, prior to Louis arriving at Bar 3 there had been no further conversation about Liam, his preferences or positions. Simply, all the UK lads stayed in their lanes; Harry was out and struggling to deal with his predatory sex drive, Zayn and Niall were closeted gay or at least bi, and Liam was self-defined "straight" with some sort of dirty secret as "told by Harry". 

End of subject. 

That was end of subject prior to Louis.

Past aside, Zayn stood there watching as Louis was bent over Niall and clearly giving the Irishman the blowjob of a life time. 

Niall's face was flushed red like it had gotten earlier in the day during the heat of exertion from their hard labor stacking hay. This flush was the result of a different kind of exertion. His head was back and his open mouth moaned between the occasional whispered uninterpretable words of praise to Louis. He gripped Louis at the shoulders. So white was Louis' skin under Niall's hold that the grip could be said painful. Nevertheless, Louis seemed unwilling to lose his focus. Niall's sounds were encouraging. 

Zayn moved closer and looked down at them. Niall's eyes opened, he tried to say "Zayn" but it mutated into a word that came out like "Zay-jog-oh".

Niall gasped. 

Louis felt the distraction of Zayn's presence and he popped off Niall's cock with a proceeding slurp.

His voice was nowhere close to it's norm than Niall's had been but Louis' three words were clear. 

"Come for me?" Louis said to Niall ignoring Zayn's arrival. 

Louis had a tight grip on Niall's cock, luckily. The immediate start of an ejaculated spurt hit a cheekbone on one side of Louis's face with the suggestion to Niall to let himself go. Maybe Niall had been politely straining to avoiding coming down Louis throat. Before Niall's entire load could be lost Louis went down on Niall again. He swallowed in rhythm to each released that came with twitches and jerks of punctuation. 

Zayn stood right over them wishing he had something to muffle the noise as Niall lost himself to becoming loud in his ecstasy.

With uncanny timing Louis knew precisly when to stop swallowing Niall's cum before the pain of over stimulation set in.

Niall's appreciation showed in his hands which released Louis' potential bruised shoulders and cupped his face touching the jizz like he was pondering what to do with the mess he'd made on Louis. 

Louis didn't wait for a question. He licked the coated thumb, hummed indication of its tastiness then he kissed Niall deeply. 

If this was intended as an instructional lesson for the virgin Niall, it was going to be a thorough one. Indeed Niall tasted himself for the first time.

When they broke their kiss Niall looked at Louis with astonishment and wonder. 

He'd never had a friend with benefits before. 

Harry once said to Niall when he was going about deliberately trying to antagonize Niall about "gay stuff" as Harry loved to do, "Niall, don't knock it until you try it."

What Harry didn't know was that Niall was uncomfortable because he was figuring himself out. And a virgin. And sheltered. His discomfort was not in the idea of two men together. It was discomfort about any jokes about sex that started with a conversation mentioning Liam. 

But in time, Niall had made a new friend in Harry. It was because of the appeal of how Harry was different than Niall, not their sameness like Liam had incorrectly assumed. Their friendship was never because they both came from money. It was the appeal of a friend who was confident about his sexuality even when "gayness" was a cause for persecution world-wide. Harry's confidence was appealing. Unnatural for Niall, but yes, appealing. 

Niall wasn't thinking about self-discovery he developed by listening to Harry over the recent past; not now. Not after greater self-discovery in the most intimate way thanks to Louis. 

It was awkward? No. He thought it should be. Sucked off by a guy he'd met only recently. Not to mention his orgasm haze cleared and there was now another dude, standing up there. Watching as he came...in his benefactor's throat. Was this awkward? 

Some part of Niall felt so good from the only sexual experience he'd had other then with his own hand and a porn hub picture. A part of him didn't care if this was awkward. And then Zayn weighed in. 

Zayn put a hand on each of their shoulders and spoke softly to Niall as he studied Louis, "M'not even going to ask how amazing that felt Niall. You should have seen yourself. Maybe you should let me take it from here?"

What was he talking about?

Take what? Zayn take what? 

***

Zayn stood behind the prone Louis and pulled him up from the floor. Bringing Louis into his chest he wrapped his arms around Louis holding him. 

Louis seemed slightly weak presumably from being cramped on the floor. Maybe. Whatever the reason Louis let himself lay back into Zayn's embrace as he looked down at spent Niall with eyes darkened from pupils blown wide. 

It took Zayn's wandering hands moving over Louis' body for Niall to catch onto Zayn's perceptiveness about Louis' condition; the meaning of "take-it-from-here".

Louis was aroused by sucking Niall off and it left him hungry for more. Niall could see an outline of Louis' erection pressed against fabric of his tight jeans.

Bringing Niall to orgasm had unleashed Louis' own need for pleasure. Zayn's hands traveled over the outlined erection, to the closures and he unfastened them. His lips were nuzzling Louis, whispering about "taking care of him" and placing an occasional kiss Louis' skin. Louis wigged with need ever so slightly in Zayn's arms while he kept his stare on Niall. He looked to be asking, pleading for something.

Zayn gave Niall a command. "Niall, come pull these clothes off me, yeah?"

Niall jumped to work at helping Zayn undress while not disrupting the process of Zayn slowly stripping Louis. Each became nude where they stood with Zayn continously roaming his hands over Louis, keeping the pliable, mewing Louis in his control. Zayn rubbed skin, twisted nipples, kissed and nipped sensitive areas convenient to the reach of his mouth. 

When Niall stepped back from finishing his task of disrobing Zayn he saw that indeed Louis was in Zayn's hand with a cock fully erect and dripping precum.

It made Niall feel so good. That erection was caused by him. Louis was turned on by what he had done to Niall. Niall was...desirable! 

Niall was thinking how maybe if he had that effect on Louis, who was just a mate, maybe it might actually be possible that he could have that effect on Liam.

Zayn had turned Louis' head and they were kissing as best they could although they were still back to chest. Niall could see that Zayn was pressing an ever growing erection up against the back side of Louis. Louis was returning pressure by pushing his bum into Zayn' pelvis. 

It must have gotten overpowering for Zayn because he used no gentle force to push Louis toward where the tack was on a table. Zayn shove the leather goods aside and bent Louis over the table. 

Louis laughed reaching his arms up to grab the opposite side of the table for hold and said with a delighted, teasing tone, "Gonna forego saving yourself for Liam and fuck me Zayn?"

Zayn slapped Louis arse hard before settling into to squeezing the full, round cheeks which were unparalleled by anything Niall had ever imagined possible on someone not a female. 

"No, you wicked little slut. M'not. This tonight is all about educating virgin-Niall here, idn't it?" 

Zayn settled to his knees and worked the flesh of Louis' bum as he continued to explain. "If Niall wants to fuck with the big boy he's gonna have to learn a thing or two about prepping or Liam will rip his tiny arse up. You're just my visual-aid, love." Zayn said using "love" as a pet name for Louis. 

Zayn sounded confident and in control. Never mind that Louis had felt the erection that started growing for Zayn the moment that they were pressed into each other so Louis simply moaned his dissatisfaction and let Zayn use him to do what he willed. 

Zayn parted Louis' legs more and took a hold of each ample cheek and separated them too. His lecture to Niall began.

"Now Niall...oh god, Louis, have you looked at yourself?" 

The first two words had been said with an almost collegiate tone of authority and severity. Zayn stumbled though when he parted the cheeks and had his first look at Louis' hole. Tiny. Pink. Radial perfection. It confounded Zayn. It was like observing a soft bud of a flower when the petals first opened revealing something pristine. Perfect. That caused Zayn to lapse and momentarily loose his professorial diction. 

Zayn shook off his surprise remembering he had instructions to give. He cleared his throat and his mind of its momentary loss of focus. "Okay, so what we have here Niall is what you have to be familiar with if you're going to be ready for 10.2. You see how tiny this is..."

Louis shifted and started to express some discontent, but Zayn released the hold, slapped Louis' bum then parted the cheeks again. He spit on Louis' hole which elicited both a gasp from Louis and the most minute of puckering at the center of the tiny opening. 

Niall eyes widened at Louis' responsiveness. It was hot. So hot. Unbelievably so. Niall even felt his own body respond; his spent dick stiffened ever so slightly to Niall's surprise. 

Zayn ran a tip of his index finger across the hole and teased Louis which exicted more gasps and few cursory words under Louis' breath.

Zayn enjoyed taunting Louis as much as he was enjoying educating Niall.

"Now first you need to get some lube and be aware this is not like with girls who can easily make it. To get started prepping yourself; you have to use something. For you starting out, begining with one finger to check yourself out, soap in the shower is good. Just for starters though Niall. Get some actual lube before 10.2" 

Zayn blew hot breath over Louis' exposed hole, spit on it again and tickled the perineum more with the tip of his finger. 

Louis mewed his discontent then barked out at Zayn. "He's gonna need a lot more working his hole open than one finger Z..."

Zayn silenced Louis this time with a bite on a cheek that he soothed with a lick of his tongue fading into a kiss. Then he licked across the plumb bum into the crevice and across Louis' hole. 

Louis spread legs more, trembled and moaned contentedly.

"Come on you." Zayn said.

He had reached a conclusion. He could smell the scent of Louis' precum. The twitching hole was begging for more. He anticipated that Louis' trembling legs were a sign that Louis wanted the feeling of his body being filled. Louis needed it. Maybe Zayn hadn't had experience with fucking men, but he knew from the girls who he had eaten out what Louis' these signs from Louis were telling him. Shaking like this. Dripping. Needing. Louis needed to be fucked. 

Zayn pulled Louis back from the table and laid himself back onto a lengthy wool saddle pad that had fallen to the floor. Settling laying on his back on top of the unfolded blanket Zayn pulled Louis with him. Louis was guided to straddle Zayn's chest with Louis' bum at tongue's reach. 

Zayn reached around to take ahold of Louis' erection giving it just a few hard wanks to tease Louis. He quickly moved both hands then back to part Louis' cheeks once more as he said firm and commandingly. "Now don't cum until I've properly eaten you out, yeah?"

"Ha....aah hum." Louis said nodding his head with a drunken-like acknowledgement while chewing on his lower lip. Louis was clearly biting back growing needs. Wishfully he was giving to the pleasure of Zayn's tongue licking the inside of each cheek as Zayn made his way torturous and slow. 

Naill came down sit next to Zayn and Louis on the floor too. He watched curiously as Zayn exposed Louis with his fingers and licked across the hole before starting to do a series of small laps with his tongue over the opening. Zayn's tongue made Louis writhe and his back arched but he kept his bum tipped positioned so Zayn could reach him with ease.

Explicatives left Louis mouth falling away with a mix of gasps.

Niall was fascinated by what he could see of the actions of Zayn's tongue. Zayn had Louis' body glowing with a blush of pink and perspiration on his golden skin.

So engaging was it to watch the tip of Zayn's tongue break the barrier to start inserting into Louis' hole that Niall didn't realize Louis moved his hands that had been on Zayn's thighs to take Zayn's cock. This became known when Zayn stopped momentarily and scolded Louis.

"Don't you touch my dick Louis unless I ask you to. You need to cum with me eating you out. I'm not gonna fuck your perfect arse, you tease."

Naill and Louis both knew Zayn's motivation. Saving himself for Liam. 

Liam. 

Niall tried to think how this was going to work. Any of this. He, Zayn, Liam.

Yet Louis was confident about them like he was somekind of cupid magician holding a charmed gaydar wand.

Magic or voodoo might be precisly what was at work as Zayn made Louis into more and more of a visible wreck. Eating Louis out looked and sounded like heaven. Both lads were moaning, resisting writhing with their pleasure; Louis was panting and pleading. At least the repeated "moan--pant--pant--fuck" sounded like pleading to Niall. 

An exasperated "Pleeease Zayn!" left Louis' mouth as Zayn had him so close and yet clearly leaving him needing more. 

Niall wasn't sure. He had no experiences with this sort until now. 

Looking at Louis' cock dripping precum as Louis seemed bent on holding off for something more, more friction perhaps, broke Niall from his role as observer and student. He crawled over Zayn's legs and took Louis' cock. 

The touch of his hands jolted Louis who was seated over Zayn with eyes closed. His eyes flashed open and locked on Niall's. Desperation, like the sweat, dripped from Louis. 

Niall stroked Louis a few times timidly then he closed his eyes and took Louis into his mouth...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fiction presents the fake Zayn with a personality that Typos vibes as the real Zayn. A teaser for this chapter id posted with a gif that looked like the threesome scene written here. Still hoping to figure out how to do that thing where persons use images in their promotions. 
> 
> Thanks for reading...comments?


	6. Bees and bitches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis turns the tables from pranked to prankster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a lot of Niall's POV. Trying to write with a balance of shifting the perspective around. Hope it's working!

The next morning Niall woke abruptly. 

A threesome! Okay. Every lads dream... but distinctly unlike "every lad" Niall's was with two of his mates. 

It took Niall convincing himself while he brushed his teeth, got dressed and exited his room that it might actually be okay...for him. This might be true because it had felt so good. He couldn't prevent his mind from thinking about when Louis sucked him off and then he sucked Louis off. It made him wonder how that would compare to being with Liam. 

Niall's browl furrowed. Thinking of Liam made him worry again. Would he be good enough? Niall wondered how much of the pleasure Louis was getting from what he brought to the threesome versus how much was because of what Zayn was doing to Louis. How did Niall measure up? In all of this new, self-discovery the reality was that Niall's self esteem came down to how he compared to Zayn. 

Perfect Zayn. 

And what about and what Zayn did in the threesome? How was that playing into Zayn's own quest for Liam? 

Niall was both enlightened and newly connfused. He realized he still didn't know so many of even the most basic things about sex. 

Like Zayn did what to Louis? What was it? Rimming? He'd heard talk of it. Niall pieced together what he witnessed. The way Zayn's tongue went around the opening...okay. Clearly rimming. But what was it when Zayn pushed into Louis with his tongue? Did that mean Zayn was eating him out? Niall was so confused. He wished he'd paid more attention to talk amoung lads. Those who bragged about their exploits might have at least given him some clue. Apparently there are so many things, things that can be done with either a girl or a boy. This gender thing was getting so fluid. 

Once dressed Niall stepped outside of his lodge. He paused looking across the expansive grounds to the dinning hall. He was pondering whether maybe he should wake Zayn. Maybe they could have breakfast together; he could ask Zayn some questions. Afterall Niall had known Zayn longer than Louis and to be honest he was no longer feeling so conflicted and uncomfortable about trying to talk with Zayn. Thanks to Louis. Louis was right. He and Zayn had so many things incommon. Niall admitted to himself his reservations anout Zayn came from within him, his own insecurities, not Zayn or what Zayn deserved. 

Niall was about to turn back to go inside and wake Zayn up, Zayn was a notorious late sleeper. That was when Niall saw Harry exiting from inside one of the stables much too early for being in the barn for a work assignment. Harry looked around, didn't notice Niall, then slowly began walking toward the dinning hall. Harry walked slumped over as if that would make him smaller, less noticeable. Niall started to go catch up with Harry when he saw Liam come out of the same stable after first peering out and looking around much the same as Harry had just a minute before. When Liam exited he went the opposite direction of Harry ducking through a corral as if to travel out of sight of the main thoroughfare of pedestrian traffic. 

Niall watched as Liam disappeared from view after a final glance back at Harry.

Liam. Harry. 

Niall continued spying on Harry long enough to see Harry stop outside the dining hall and adjust himself. Inexperienced about things lovers do, naive, or not, only an idiot wouldn't see that Harry and Liam had just enjoyed a secret rendez-vous. Openly gay Harry and "straight" Liam. 

Once Harry finished adjusting himself he began to wrap his unruly hair in his scarf. Certain that Liam had slipped well out of sight Niall ran over to catch Harry just as Harry was about to enter the dining hall. He called out Harry's name. As Harry turned just upon opening the door Harry looked back over his shoulder at Niall as he continued stepping into the doorway... and he collided right into the person coming out at the same time.

Louis.

Niall, Harry and Louis coalesced in one spot. Several things converged with their meeting.

Niall had caught Harry by surprise. He was not obvious yet it was still easy to see Harry meant to be want to avoid being seen. 

Niall was himself also surprised because the person Harry had ran into was Louis. Louis. Louis who was now a completely different person, something indescribable in Niall's eyes.

How to describe Louis? Louis, who lips had been around Niall's cock. Louis, who's hands had caressed Niall's balls, touched his body in ways Niall had only hoped were possible. Louis, who deep throated and swallowed every drop Niall gave up. That Louis. The Louis who responded to intimacy with Niall by looking ready for more. Needing more. Like anything intimate with Niall was a reward. A pleasure to enjoy. 

Yes. That Louis, indeed.

Louis was apparently also caught by surprise having quite literally run into Harry. Their impact had popped the lid off a soft, plastic, bear-shaped bottle of honey Louis was carrying.

Who knew why Louis was in the dining hall so early. Breakfast would be served soon, but not that early. And yet here was Louis with some of dining hall's honey in his hand. The honey spilled when the lid came off with vast majority of it deposited on Harry's chest. Louis was stealing honey? Why? 

It was Louis who regained his composure quickest.

He looked at Niall fleetingly with a nod of greeting as he said "good morning". 

Turning to Harry, Louis ran his finger across where some of the spill of honey was thickest. A glob of it was nearly dripping. The swipe with his finger took much of the honey from Harry's shirt. 

Louis immediately inserted the finger between his lips. He sucked the honey off. His eyes were trained on Harry as he hummed while doing so with a faked innocence. 

Harry stared back but was uncharacteristally speechless. Both Niall and Harry were dazed by the sight of Louis sucking then licking his finger making sounds that morphed into something intentionally suggestive. Louis was deliberately cleaning the stickiness away with what seemed excessive, sexual coyness while looking up at Harry. 

How was boarderline sex-addict Harry tolerating this, Niall wondered. Indeed, Niall's own dick twitched at the sight; like Louis' actions were a siren-call to Niall's body. Was this the lingering after-shock, unintended consequence, from intimacy with Louis? Did Louis own him now? Niall felt like it was so.

Ignoring Niall like they were casual friends and nothing more Louis reached for Harry again. 

This time Louis didn't make a pass at wiping off more honey from the still copiously honey-smeared torso.

Instead Louis used the finger he'd been seductively licking clean to reach for a small part of Harry's hair which was tucked up inside Harry's headscarf and pulled a section free. 

The curly lock of hair bounced back because of its buoyant texture. It looking like a visual representation of a springiness Niall felt in his crotch because his dick responded to the playful, flirtatious intimacy of Louis with Harry. Definitively, Niall's body was transformed into responsiveness to anything involving Louis, himself and another sexually-attractive man.

"Sorry 'bout the mess Curly", Louis said staring at Harry's lips. Niall noticed that those lips seemed particuarly worn and reddened on this morning which was no surprise to Niall. Louis concluded by saying "Shame I don't have time to lick you clean. Things to do." 

Louis left Dumbstruck-Harry and Astonished-Niall with the bottle of honey in hand. 

Both Niall and Harry watched the waddle of Louis' arse as he departed. The unusual comments were ignored by each when they shook off the shock off The-Louis. Each looked at the other uncertain where to go following the suggestive encounter. 

Harry looked flushed. Niall knew it wasn't solely because of the innuendos laten with sex that Louis dropped which had rendered Harry so. It was also because of Liam. Harry and Liam. 

Liam Payne, straight guy. 

Straight-guy-Liam-and-love-of-Niall's-life. 

Was this a three horse race, this quest for Liam? 

Niall felt out of his element. He could see blissed out, just-been-fucked, written all over Harry. The thought of it made Niall wish Louis would come back. Or wish Zayn was there. As much as Niall and Harry were the two UK lads who were the closest to being actual friends it was really disturbing at this very moment to be alone with Harry. 

The uncomfortable silence was broken when more lads came along and small groups pushed pass them entering the dining hall. It became easier to put aside everything because thinking about anything else was better for Niall. So he tried to let the morning revelations go. 

***

Busy was the day ahead. On the weekend so many children coming to Bar 3 for the "Children's Festival of the Horse". 

Assignments for the day were all directed to set up for the festival. By mid morning many had moved to tasks associated with setting up a short cross country jumping course. This was not the Olympics. Or the biggest US qualifier for it, the Kentucky Rolex, but still the cross country jumping course would be used by children. The goal was for these children to have a good experience. All the jumps were being adjusted with extra provisions for a fun, safe, challenge. 

Crews formed to measure steps, or a horse's strides to each jump. One by one each made simple enough for the most inexperienced of riders. The crews naturally became self-appointed; lads who were friends grouped as one crew. One of the crews working by foot on some jumps were the four Australians. 

Niall and Harry, being well skilled in all aspects of English riding, experienced in riding fox hunts, were busy with helping Kyla. They were going to assist her in working the horses the children would use for jumping over these newly reset jumps. In a real cross country contest the horses wouldn't preview the course, only their riders would. By having adult riders show the horses the course in training runs it would help these kid-friendly horses to know just what they had to do when they had little people on them the next day. 

For Niall and Harry this gave them ample time to sit around lazily on horseback, talk, watch the crews working at each jump. Occassionally they would ride some of the course. Once the they had tried some jumps, Niall and Harry would retun to simply sitting around on their horses while Kayla told the foot crews what to do if any changes were needed. 

Harry and Niall enjoyed this very much because they were in somewhat privileged positions. So it seemed compared to the others who were counting off paces, measuring, setting rails. 

US insurance laws were strick. So much so that even while reseting jumps, even if no horses were on the course, any person on foot had to wear bright vests of orange or citron green like a construction worker. This was so anyone on foot could be safely seen in the event there was a fast horse crossing the course. Louis had been given the task of handing out the vests as the foot crews set to work earlier. What he went to do after that was a subject that came up between Niall and Harry in conversation. 

It occurred to Niall as he and Harry joked with each other about the "servants working on foot" that they didn't see Louis. Or Zayn either. Niall felt a strange conflict of emotion. What were Zayn and Louis doing? 

"Don't suppose you see who Louis or Zayn are working with, do you Harry?"

Scanning around the large field Harry began a slow nod, "No...now that you mention that, neither one seems out here. Kinda curious because Louis was giving out the vests."

After Harry replied he started to fix his attention of a group working that seemed acting strange. 

"Niall is that the Australians over there at the oxbow jump?" Harry asked.

Niall looked where Harry pointed to and sure enough it was Ashton, Luke, Michael and Calum. The four were behaving very strange.

"A'hum ...what the ...what are they doing?" 

Niall's answer became a question at the end because after he confirmed that it was the Australian's at the oxbow jump he noticed what Harry had seenaleeady. From far away it seemed like they were flailing arms and jumping around. Either Ashton or Luke had been wearing a SnapBack and was using to to swat at something. 

Whatever the four mates from Australian were doing it became increasingly hard to ignore because it was completely odd. Michael, it appeared, decided to run and took off heading toward the corrals and barns. Then, sure enough the other three ran after him as if in pursuit. 

Harry and Niall decided to kick their horses into a lope to catch up to them for a closer look. As they loped to see what was happening, they saw Kyla abandon jump-specifying critique with another foot crew. She too gallop toward the Australians to see what was with their crazy behavior.

Michael had reached the corrals and he jumped into a large water trough. As the three got to the corrals they each wanted to throw themsleves into the water as well. By the time Niall and Harry reached them the four were wrestling with one and other so they each could take the place of whoever was dunking themself into the water. Apparently some relief was offered from the submerging. 

Kyla had beaten Harry and Niall to the foursome. She was inquiring about their weird behavior and they seemed to have cooled off, or refreshed, or evaded whatever was troubling them. Evaded. That became the conclusion. Mid sentence Harry and Niall heard their expalnation as Michael was talking. 

"...at first it was just a few bees, then there were more. And more. Before we knew it all of us seemd to be some sort of bee attractant. They kept coming and landing on our backs."

Calum interupted. "I saw Michael take off running and thought, good idea cause these things weren't leaving."

Kyla was surveying them and the surroundings. There were no bees or Yellowjackets or hornets or anything. Still the behavior from a distance supported that some pest had been bothering the Australian crew. Why else would they choose to run to the nearest open water and throw themselves into it? They looked pathetic; like four drenched kittens. Certainly the water trough wasn't appealing for bathing. 

Michael, whose ever changing hair was particularly one for caring more about his appearance than anything else, everyone knew, stood there looking like a half-drown kitten. He had a serious case of my-hair-is-ruined trauma. Michael's hair was his trophy. He'd had picked the wrong day to spray it with a purple-rinse out dye. 

"Okay, so why don't you four go get yourselves into some dry clothes. I'll go see if there is a nest somewhere near where you were. Maybe you did something that made the insects angry." Kyla was holding one of the vest that the four had shead off as they dunk their bodies in water. Attached to ithe vest was a swatted, flatten insect. She could see from the bits of it remaining that it was a yellowjacket, not a honey bee. 

The four ambled off dripping and disgruntled and Kyla picked up their vests. Harry and Niall sat on their horses looking completely delighted in the spectacle that the Australians made of themselves. They tried not to show it. But it was hilarious to them. Michael, Calum, Luke and Ashton chased by insects, forced into throwing themselves into dirty water to escape being stung. 

Kyla was holding the gathered the vests as a few bugs flew around like they were attracted to the vests. She threw the vests into the water and the insects flew off. Looking at her hand Kyla said out loud to herself as much as to Harry or Niall, "That's weird."

"What?" Harry asked.

"Those vests. There seems to be something sticky on them." 

At that second Kyla jumped because a yellowjacket tried to land on her hand which had some sticky residue on it. She doused her hand under the water of the trough as if to eliminate the stickiness she had picked up by handling the sticky vests. No more insects seemed to be buzzing her. She looked at the Brits to share her paradox. 

"Why would there be something sticky on these vests? It was like syrup or honey or something. How did that happen? Were those boys wearing their vests at breakfast?" She shook her head at how that made no sense. Fresh pancakes, biscuits and honey were a daily offering on the ranch breakfast menu. Not that it would make for honey-dipped clothing. 

Kyla decided to go over to where the Australians were working, just to make certain that there were no insect nests that had been disturbed. After she rode off to inspect the area Harry and Niall shared a conclusion.

"Niall, you know how the honey got on those vests don't you?" Harry asked.

Niall laughed with a snort and a nod. It was indeed hilarious. Anything sugary could attract bees or yellowjackets in the summer. Louis made the four other lads into insect bait.

"You think Louis did that to them deliberately?"

"It seems obvious. Why else did he sneak off with that honey this morning? And just a few days ago we were coming back with Snowball and this bee landed on him. I told him how those kind of insects like sweet stuff. It was just a honey bee. And given that the four of them have been pranking him, I'd say he decided to give it back to them. He must have realized he could tamper with their vests since he was supposed to hand them out this morning. It's pretty clever to think of that don't you think?"

Both Niall and Harry looked around. Crews were working everywhere but there was still no sight of Louis. Or Zayn. Before they could speculate about that Kyla signaled them back to help her test the jumps. Another crew had taken over the Australian's abandoned work. There were no insect nests inciting attacks. 

What had been a sneaky, undetected, targeted prank was forgotten about as the day's work demanded everyone keep busy. 

***

Niall found Zayn out behind a barn smoking. Most people would be going to dinner soon and Zayn was clearly intending to be unseen as he smoked. Niall called out to Zayn with an "Oy, Zayn!" 

"Niall" Zayn offered softly back.

"Been missing all day..."

The unfinished statement was meant to lead Zayn into and explanation but Zayn was "too Zayn" for that. He nodded his head yes and kept smoking until he finished. When he and Niall walked over to dinner it was more of Zayn just quietly walking together with Zayn offering no insights about his day. Niall found himself babbling on a bit because he wanted to ask, but couldn't; had Zayn spent his day languishing somewhere with Louis? Louis had nice thighs, afterall. What better place could one be than between them maybe. Maybe? Maybe doing things to each other.

Stepping into the dining hall they saw Louis sitting at a table with Liam. Liam was smiling and Louis was talking with animated hand gestures that suggested his story was exciting. 

Zayn spoke. His words were said as if they were thoughts offered outloud more than anything else. "Hun. So maybe Louis was with Liam all day."

Niall looked at Zayn and felt relief. Okay. Louis and Zayn weren't secretly doing things without him...but wait. Louis and Liam? Were they together all day? Originally he thought it was Zayn and Louis, but rather could it have been these two? Then Niall had a vision of Liam and Louis together pop into his mind. 

He could see how Liam would manage Louis with ease. Maybe pick Louis up and grip him with just one of Liam's strong hands biting into Louis' luscious thighs. The other hand would direct his member to press into Louis. Then Liam could fuck him like that. Pound the smaller, naturally sensitve lad, into orgasm. One orgasm, than maybe another. Yep, Liam could so very easily do that. So it was that Niall imagined. 

It didn't occur to Niall that he, of all people, should know that Liam had clearly been banging Harry in the morning. It was unlikely that he went on to doing more of the same with Louis. And furthermore, the only thing that should matter to Niall was Liam. His obsession. Niall was standing next to Zayn like both were afraid to approach when Harry stepped up behind them. 

Harry was in his typical "Harry love bubble" a blissful happy place that seemed to follow Harry and radiate around him like a shroud or an aura anything he'd had recently had sex. He looked at Zayn and Niall from a position he'd pushed himself into between them and put an arm casually over each of their shoulders. He glanced back and forth between, or at them, in alternating turns as they both stood there watching Liam and Louis. Maybe he picked up that something was causing them both great reservation. Harry broke the stalemate of their silent pause.

"Hey Zayn, didn't you want to avoid the four man relay race tomorrow? We signed up as Team UK before Louis was here. Let's go join he and Liam. Maybe Louis will run your leg of the race and you can sit it out? Louis seems like he's into...physical stuff, don't you think?"

Zayn looked at Harry who's question was innocent. Yet Zayn's expression was puzzled. Like Zayn was asking "what the fuck do you mean by that?" 

Niall understood Zayn's puzzlement. Did Harry know something about them...the three of them? Just like earlier in the morning, Niall's brain went right back into his "I-was-in-a-threesome" focus. Did Harry know this? 

Luckily Niall's go-to response to everything was a nervous laugh. Harry took his laugh as a "yes". The taller of the three lads pulled the two of them with him as he kept his arms still draped over their shoulders like they were his bitches and he was showing them off while arriving at a party.

Zayn, Harry and Niall interupted the table of two. To anyone who watched it was the natural formation of a like-with-like group of lads feeling at ease together. To a trained eye for human behavior it could be clearly seen the five were a nervous group all nearly gushing with over-infused hormonal rages. All except for maybe one. Louis sat like a king. A tiny lion king maybe, but a king. A king with a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm excited to get to into the next day ... ( Louis is going to get tied up! Literally. ) It will be a slow progressing challenge to interweave bondage and smut into the story along with a day of kid's activities. Wish me luck.


	7. The rope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This part weaves into it elements about real-Louis being so good with kids. It makes a point about body images; how unkindness over body types can backfire. It's full of fodder promoting naughty thoughts because of how something as innocent as dangling braces can be erotic on the right person (with an arse like Louis') and it has inspiration in one of my favorite Zouis images.
> 
> Mostly it sets up more angst among the lads. Otp3 wrestling with their demons and Harry finding torment of his own that he hasn't a clue how to reconcile. Ultimately this leads to a cascade of upcoming misunderstandings all around.

It wasn't like the Australians had figured out about the honey attractant on their vests. It wasn't that at all. It was just that they were still on a mission to prank Louis. They had been unsuccessful on two prior attempts. The day of the big festival the need to prank became unbearable to deny.

When the huge number of children arrived for the horse-themed games that made up the Festival of the Horse it was easy to consider what mischief could work given all the distractions; Bar 3 mentors and counselors were all so very, very busy. 

There were groups of children sorted by age and ability. The children were expected to shift through a large series of games and activities. Some of the fun events were quite simple to do, relatively speaking. Like the sack-race. Or the egg and spoon race. 

Louis had been working in the sack race throughout the morning. The objective of the sack race was much the same as in other summer gatherings where it was played; two people had to put one leg into a burlap "sack" and run from a start line to finish line trying to work together. For the purpose of horse-themed contest the race was done with a third team member, a horse. One of the two people on the team had to hold a rope attached to a horse and lead it with them as they raced. This way the two people had to not only work together to run with a sack on their leg, but they also had to work to get the horse to "run" with them too. 

There was funny thing about the horses used in this event in that they were all very good at cooperation. They had been well schooled about the weird game of being lead by a running person with a flappy bag around their leg and second human at their other side. To the horses it was easy, but people didn't always realize that. Much of the actual "contest" came down to the relationship of the people. 

If someone was innately at ease with kids (Louis was) and athletic (like Louis was) the object of the race was easy. As a result Louis proved to be pretty good at this challenge. He was so new to the ranch, the horses, but the temperaments he needed to understand were more those of his child race partners than that of the horse. If anything, thinking about horses made the racers loose focus on the kids they had to run with and so, by his ignorance, Louis had an advantage. 

Luke and Ashton were assigned to the morning sack race too. In multiple heats of the race they found they were loosing to Louis. Every time they were certain they had won a race they would look over and there would be Louis and his child team mate celebrating, happy, just looking like this crazy race they had just won was something they did everyday. It was almost like Louis was born for this. He had an innate ease of how make kids happy. 

That might have been why the idea was spawned in the mind on the two Australians to tie Louis up. 

In one after another heat of a sack race, Louis proved victorious. They had so see his celebratory dance as his group of kids were getting into the spirit. They even had a team "high-five" hand thing they used. It was cute if you didn't have a grudge. 

After a few series of races were run a pattern formed. Team Louis usually won. Occasionally some other teams won. There were two guys from the States who did well and ran consistently second fastest with their child and horse partners. If anyone else won over Team Louis is was most often one of those US teams. Once a team with a one of the program lads from France won. Mostly though, it was Team Louis. 

With the consistently of kids in Louis' group winning the event judges switched the horses around, just in case Louis had the best horse. It didn't change things. Even when Louis' child partner was a "fatty" the Australian's, with their fitter child teammate, still lost to the least athletic child in the race. It was win to Team Louis. Again. 

Ashton and Luke really seethed watching Louis and his entirely non-athletic teammate. Her skin was flushed red. Her hair stuck with sweat on the side of her too puffy face. And yet, Louis was celebrating with his teammate, clearly giving the little girl all the positive reinforcement she needed. Ashton and Luke could see it without hearing it over all the noise of the spectators. 

They saw Louis telling the girl to drink water he handed her. He got down on one knee to look at her more on her level. She was nodding her head "yes" to his words clearly happy even though she looked so flushed that she might be scarily close to a heat stroke. Occasionally Louis gently removed a sweet plastered section of hair from the girl's full, flushed face. Anyone watching could see her esteem was growing with his sincerity and praise. She had won. A child not fit enough to have won a race of a mere ten feet was a winner of a race sixty feet long which required one leg stuck in a sack. 

How had they accomplished it? Ashton and Luke wondered. A few times in their race they both had tried to get an unfair advantage by using their arm which they hooked around their small child team mate's waist to lift their kiddos up and carry them a few pivotal strides. Nevertheless, there was Louis and his little fatty, the winners. It was this losing to Team Louis with the fat girl that became a defeat they couldn't take. Seething, it made the Australians determined to get in another attempt to prank. 

It was this experience of repeated sack race defeat, not their awareness that Louis had pranked them with the honey, that fueled their need to conjur a method to torment Louis. 

In fact the idea for the prank began with Luke and Ashton born out of what they saw in the sack race. 

They had both become quite annoyed by the way Louis had a lead rope hanging off himself between races which became somewhat of a disturbing distraction. It was a simple thing. Just a rope. Louis was no different than any of the others in that all the youth program sack race runners were required to keep a lead rope with them that they used whenever leading a horse team mate away from the reata, or string of horses. 

The way the race was set up was that each child would select a horse to be on their team. All the horses used were tied along a long rail. When the child picked their horse, the youth program runner they were racing with took a rope they had with them, unfastened the horse from a rope which was left tied to the rail and snapping onto the horse that lead rope that they in hand. It was a process to avoid timely untying and tying. Thus each of the boys running was required to keep a rope with them that they used whenever leading a horse team mate. 

Early on Louis' kids picked the same horse each time, but generally, the horses were rotating between teams so that in every race it was pretty random what horse a youth program team member would tale from the reata to use in a race. As Team Louis kept winning, the Australians focused more and more on what else was different about Louis compared to everyone else. How was he being so successful? The beatings by Team Louis increased in number, Luke and Ashton began to focus on the lead rope Louis carried because he did an odd thing with it that he, and he alone, did. 

How Louis held a rope when it was not in use was unique. Louis' rope hung from his back pockets. He had a couple coils in the rope and each rear pocket had some rope stuffed in them with much of the length of the rope left just dangling down behind him. If he had been wearing braces that were hanging off of him the effect would be the same; the effect...something erotic when he moved because of his bum which was framed perfectly by the rope. 

The rope draping had a look referential of something like the garters in woman's lingerie. It was an image that burned into Luke and Ashton's minds when they saw Louis even though he may have no intention of such. He fiddled with the rope. Like it was important to do it right. Like someone had told him so. Thus he was cautious and completely unaware it was caution to a fault.

Luke and Ashton watched one more time as Louis took the horse team mate back to the rail. He took the horse to an open spot, snapped on a rope to tie the horse, then he shoved his race-rope into his rear pockets again. Walking off with his child teammate beaming in happiness at Louis who took the child's hand as their nearly skipped with joy. Luke seethed. It was the winning and the fuckingly alluring look created by the rope that pushed Luke over the edge. 

Luke made a grump noise then commented to Ashton, "That fuf, fu..fairy is due for another try at pranking wouldn't you say, Ash? I'm sick of seeing that rope dangling around, hanging from jeans so tight like he's advertising his arse! Time we put that rope to use for something." 

Ashton nodded his head and felt relieved that he wasn't the only one who got an intirely too aroused an image from something that wasn't in his definition of his type. He was into girls...seriously. 

"Louis and his stupid rope shouldn't be allowed to look so...hot...there are kids here, afterall." Ashton spoke before he realized he was doing so because his brain was checking out the details of the curve of Louis' bum and the carved definition of his thighs. Those things being what the dangling rope seemed to emphasize much to Ashton's chagrin. 

"Let's use that rope of his to tie him up." He added with his voice dropping low and primal. 

Snapping himself out of his fog, Ashton cleared his throat and restated his idea. "After the sack races, let's find a quite spot and tie the annoying twink with his rope. Seems like he's asking for it. If we put him in one of the old barns no none will discover him for hours. It's so busy today. He's probably not scheduled for working another game anyway, not with all the running we are doing. I think we all have our break after this while the Egg and Spoon races go. Let's get him away from the crowds and tie him in the darkest, most secluded barn, the old one that no one goes into." 

"Sounds like a good plan to me." Luke said making a gesture to poke fun at the secret handshake of Team Louis and sealing their concensus on the plan. So it would be. 

Across the grounds contests of other sorts that were more equestrian skill-based were approaching a break too. Liam had been working with children doing roping. Harry and Niall had been working with children doing the jumping course. Fewer kids could do these activities because they had to be regularly attending lessons for these events to be safe for them. These challenges also required a lot of hands supporting each child. 

The three mounted lads turned their horses to go back to the stable for the mid day break. They came along to ride with each other because they were taking the same path. As per usual, Liam was very quiet and took on his routine composure as the solitary-man-of-few-words. Restraint. That was Liam. That was why Harry loved fucking with him. 

Soon all three came to be struck mute because they traveled along side an area where Zayn had been set up for his morning activities with kids. It was a bad path. Like the kind of "bad" one likes. 

Zayn had gotten a cake job. One of the activity areas was art. Children were doing various forms of self expression to create horse crafts. The artistic skill Zayn possessed was well known so Zayn had been working with the kids who wanted to do paintings of horses. It was perfect for Zayn. 

With a break approaching very few of the kids were still working on their art. Most were off for their lunches. The sack races that were nearby had ended and Liam, Harry and Niall had encountered what was Louis stopping by Zayn's painting station. Some sort of silliness had broken out between them. 

To Liam, Niall, and Harry it appeared that Zayn was trying to get something away from Louis. They could see Louis had just drawn something, or made some sort of image with a paintbrush on a large, stiff piece of artist paper. 

Closer view revealed that Zayn had made some arty face paint marks on his own face. Despite the face paint they could easily see that Zayn was flushed. Like he was embarrassed. Zayn and Louis each struggled for ownership an the image Louis created. In their wrestling over it there was a split second of both letting go as they play-fought which allowed the wind to catch the picture. It was taken airborne drifting over a fence between where Zayn and Louis wrestled and where the three mounted lads were riding past. The picture landed in the dirt right in perfect view for the riders. 

Anyone who knew the quality of Zayn's work knew that this creation, for lack of a better word, was not in Zayn's bold style. Clearly Louis made it. It was simply an outline of something. 

A very simple line representation. 

Penis...actually penis and balls. Very primitive, very juvenile. But yes. Dick. 

Liam jumped off his horse and grabbed the "painting" not wanting the wind to take it again and have it land somewhere that a child could see the so-called art. 

Evidence in hand the three of them were clear on the cause of the struggle. The wind had stripped the picture from Zayn, who was most likely also trying to spare the risk of a child seeing Louis' idea of art. Zayn was left to focus on simply trying to restrain Louis. Maybe because bits of their conversation heard only in pieces was about Louis' intent to do more of the same. 

So there was Zayn with his face painted and looking simultaneously gorgeous and massively embarrassed by Louis' dick. Er, painting there of. 

In the struggle when Zayn lost his hold on the picture it was because he was trying to keep Louis wrapped in his arms. Louis had wigged to break away grasping with all his strength for another paint-laden brush. Zayn then pulled Louis back into him, back to chest. It was clearly a huge struggle for Zayn to maintain a tight hold of Louis there. 

Niall sat on his horse and felt a visceral response at the scene before them. Seeing Louis looking sweaty from his morning game duty, held in Zayn's arms, wiggling...it simply brought back fresh everything sexual that transcended between the three of them such a short time before. Niall was aroused and yet surprised because Louis was the cause, not Niall one true desire, "his" Liam. 

Liam was holding the dick pic and he was aroused too when he saw Zayn and Louis. Aroused and yet simutaneously terribly, terribly uncomfortable. Holding the picture Louis had created seemed like it could infect him; seduce ot trick him into some sort of acceptance. Like causually joking about dicks was acceptable. No. 

No. Liam couldn't be accepting of that. He couldn't risk touching this juvenile production, this obscene excuse for art. That might give him some gay cooties, or metaphysical virus. Yet he couldn't just throw it down. 

Then there was Zayn. Liam couldn't look at Zayn. With his face paint he was even more the incarnation of some other-world prince. Beauty and perfection beyond measure. And Zayn was manhandling Louis. It looked so inviting. 

No. Liam tried to train his conscious to accept what he wanted himself to subscribe to and not this seduction into a gay world. But then there was the other thing. The rope. 

The effect of Louis' dangling rope was not lost on Liam. It looked suggestive. He swallowed hard and tried not to think about it. The idea of Zayn, Louis with the rope, the way something about the two of them made Liam's brain unable to refrained from ideas of bondage. 

Behind Liam still seated atop a horse like Niall was Harry. Harry too was drinking in this monkey business between Zayn and Louis. 

Not one to shy away from a chance to blatantly gay it out there, it was odd that Harry couldn't process his normal reactions. His stomache flipped. His mind went blank. 

With the three watching the two a breakthrough evolved. It seemed that Zayn had gotten Louis to agree to yield in his desire to paint outlines of dicks by offering to paint Louis' face instead. Transfixed by something part performance art, part homoerotica, Liam, Niall and Harry watched Zayn paint simple lines and spots on Louis. Louis' mischievous face was made all the more pixi-like by Zayn. Dots and dashes, were placed somewhat abstract and asymmetrically. Louis was transformed. 

Liam crumpled up the dick pic and got back on his sorrel horse, Buzz. Silently he wished, "If only that could be me. If Zayn would hold me like that. Take in the details of my face and make me in his creation, something more perfect like he envisioned I should be. What would that feel like?" 

As Liam lost himself in his fantasy of Zayn's deep brown eyes studying him, recreating him, perfecting him, to his side also atop a horse sat Niall. Niall was watching Liam out of the corner of his eye. 

Niall's thought began with the exact same six words as Liam's. "If only that could be me..." 

"If only that could be me" Niall thought "who Liam felt so much hidden passion for that he was captivated by anything I did, unable to look away even when it hurt to watch because I was touching someone else. If only." 

As Niall and Liam were transcendent in their fantasies, it was Harry who found his world completely juxdeposed. His stomache was still vaulting. His brain still frozen. 

How was it that Harry was so often able to take anyone, anyone on the planet, like Liam for example, gay or straight, any graduation there between and make them uncomfortable and seduce them making them victim to their own undoing. With Harry's charm, his beautiful green eyes, his dimples, the perfection of his lips, the deceptive soothing of his slow deep tone of speech, an alluring scent wafting with the toss of his curls Harry had this thing that no one could resist. 

Harry counted so many people who fell to his charms as conquests because it was feeding a need within him. Filling some empty void. 

Liam was like that. 

Nick was like that. 

The his father's business VP was like that. 

Zayn and Niall? Well there was never anything about them that made them a challenge. They both would have been too easy, too obvious. Beautiful lovers, but not really intriguing. Not likely to feel the conflict that Harry liked to create when he hooked up with someone. 

And yet here was this Louis. Most obviously not a conquest. Openly gay in that way where he didn't flaunt it or deny it because it simply was not a big deal for him. Harry sensed Louis considered being gay and everything about his sexuality as natural and unspectacular as having blue eyes. Or wearing size nine shoes. Yes. 

Yes...and yet...and yet, here was this Louis. 

Not a conquest. 

Openly gay. 

His sexuality natural and unspectacular. 

Unspectacular? 

Harry felt it in his chest. It was this tightening. No, no, no! The tightening was Harry's heart pounding with such force that his chest couldn't cotain it. 

Unspectacular? No. Louis was spectacular. Truly, uniquely remarkably so. What Harry meant, by unspectacular was that Louis was so comfortable with who he was that Louis wasn't a thrill. Harry preyed on the hearts and minds of others afor the thrill. Okay. So why was Harry's stomache so butterfly filled? Where were his words? Tried as he did he could not conjur a single word of wit. He just watched Zayn and Louis as a mute. 

Only after Zayn finished his art did he and Louis become aware to a crowd that had formed. Similarly Harry, Liam, and Niall only noticed some others had come to watch Zayn create when Zayn finished. 

Luke, Ashton, Calum, and Michael were standing near the art work station and observing Zayn and Louis.

It was lunch time. The children's chaperones were responsible for them and the Bar 3 youth were scehduled for having an hour for lunch. The four lads from Australia had been on their way to get something to eat when they saw the lads from the UK. It was ironic since the conversation they had been having was mostly Luke and Ashton battling to each express their disdain for Louis and his overwhelming success in race after race all morning. When they saw him with Zayn he still had the rope dangling from his pants which fanned the fire of their annoyance. It lead to a group decision.

"Who else has time between lunch and the next assignment to help me with a little rope work?" Ashton asked.

Luke nodded affirmative with his eyes never leaving Louis. He knew exactly what Ashton was planning. "What do you have in mind?" Michael asked. 

"I remember his schedule for the day is the same as mine, except he's not in the Youth Derby. Remember we had to form four-man relay teams for the Derby a few weeks ago? That was before he came here. He's not in that race. So if he goes missing no one will notice it for hours and hours probably."

The Youth Derby Relay was an event in which the children had to use their minds and explore some history about horses. They would their knowledge to pick a "string of horses" to race for them as their champions. The horse race was a relay race, only the horses weren't real. Their "horses" where teams of four boys from the youth program. These teams were put together, like the Australians said, two weeks prior to Louis coming to the ranch. All the Australians were on one team. The UK team was slated to be Niall, Harry, Liam and Zayn. Indeed Louis wasn't in the relay.

Experiencing how much Louis loved to run and seemed tireless, something occured to the two Australians who had been loosing to him all morning.

"It's a good thing he's not in the race later," Luke huffed out. "With Zayn running they haven't a chance. He's better at things like standing around and looking cool or painting pretty things. If they have both Louis and Liam, they could kill us. Zayn is Liam's handicap." 

They nodded with no disagreements among them about the truth of what Luke said. They followed Louis and Zayn as they headed toward the dining hall. Liam, Harry and Niall had to first make their way to put up their horses. 

Trailing behind the two Brits it was decided. The Australians worked out the details as they ate. They were going to tie Louis up somewhere, just as a harmless prank, maybe the worst was seeing what happened if Louis failed to make it to his next work assignment. He was supposed to go to the Egg and Spoon race. A race that children did from horseback with the objective to ride a horse a short distance using one hand to carry an egg with a spoon without dropping the egg while going as fast as the child dared to riding. It was an easy assignment. Help kids by handing them the eggs and spoons. Louis would separate from his countrymen when they came back to work their games after lunch.

This was a perfect opportunity the Australians thought. Louis would not be missed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love the pictures from years ago of Louis and Zayn in face paint. It's the inspiration in this part.


	8. Rope tied to rope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter opens with each tormented lad feeling their yearning emotions get the better of them. Then the Australians make a successful attempt to prank Louis.

The dynamics amoung the five from the UK as they ate lunch all together for the first time was the most harmonious they had ever experienced. Well, almost harmonious. 

Aside from stolen glances; Niall at Liam, Liam at Zayn, Zayn anywhere except at Louis, it could be said that there was a newly discovered ease. Being together as a band, or gang of five, there was a neophytic sense of place, a feeling of belonging. Like it was home. 

It was all because Louis. His honest, open directness had been like a catalyst for this and he still hadn't been a part of them for more than a week. 

Louis...Harry occasionally stole a glance at him when Harry wasn't holding Zayn's or Niall's attention with his conversation. The unprecedented addition of Liam to their table was clearly a result of Louis coming to Bar 3 and eroding some barriers that each of them, Liam most of all, had put up to this. If someone was watchful it could be seen that Liam was very quiet but clearly enjoying being among peers for a change even though he kept his thoughts to himself while the others did the majority of the talking. One could also observe that every so often Zayn came very close to lingering glances at Liam. At those times Zayn would fall into his own habit of shyness and emotional self containment.

"Oops" Zayn thought when he dare to chance another peak at Liam. They almost made eye contact. 

Zayn turned to examin his food. Like his mashed potatoes that he pushed to and fro on his plate he felt a little smashed into bits. Did the thing earlier with he and Louis and the paint look too friendly? What did Liam think of that? Did it put Liam off? Zayn worried to himself. 

Zayn had this other thing to worry about too. The race. He dreaded the relay. So, yes, mashed potatoes. A physcial representation of who he was. He couldn't see beyond the fear that he would lose the relay for them. 

Zayn would be running third on their team. It was Niall, Harry, himself, then Liam, the strongest runner, going last. If Niall and Harry had any advantage keeping them in the race, Zayn knew he'd lose it. 

The ease developing among them couldn't keep Zayn uplifted as time ticked by closing the gap to race time. He listened to bits a pieces of the banter and withdrew more and more. Into his mystery he shrouded himself.

Liam noticed it because of his keen focus on all things Zayn. As Liam felt the chill in Zayn he convinced himself it was because Zayn had caught him looking at him. 

Harry and Niall were sharing laughs about what humorous things had happened in the morning on the jumping course when Zayn abruptly stood and announced he needed a smoke. His aloofness made Liam look crestfallen. Liam went deep into his loner-cowboy routine and said shortly after Zayn's departure that he needed to go check on Buzz. He was two steps away before Niall's face became all twisted and sad like the normally gregarious Irishman was on the verge of tears. Niall stood and nearly fell over himself unable to articulate what he had to do, except to say he "Have to go!"

This left Harry and Louis alone together. Harry realized this was the first time this had happened since the day Kyla asked him to go look for Louis.

Louis shrugged about the three others obviously deliberate self-defeated departure. He knew the three of them were running from themselves. 

"Pansies" Louis said. He made the assumption that Harry knew what was with them too. Their shared trifecta of lust and self-loathing seemed palpable and blatant. What they needed, but hadn't realized, was some really satisfying dicking. 

Louis was thinking of talking with Harry about them. He took a sip of some horrible excuse for tea that the ranch provided in gallons. It was something called "Sweetea". A southern US idea of a beverage allegedly made from tea leaves. The problem was that Sweetea should really be called sugar water with a hint of tea to offset the teeth rotting sugar content. The ranch was in the west, but it had enough southerners that the concoction was a popular daily offering in the summer months. Louis mistakenly thought it was, well, tea.

He hacked at the large swallow he'd gulped down. Harry had faded into a semiconscious study of Louis. The hacking Louis did because of the tea became deliberate and over-acted suggesting the Sweetea was some poison. It amused Harry like it was the most comedic thing anyone had ever done in the history of mankind. 

Laughing at Louis Harry felt his chest loosen with relief. It was nice because earlier he was feeling a mild paralysis of breath when he looked at Louis. Then Louis said it.

"Funny that. Usually I like to swallow."

Harry's brain nearly blacked out. His chest seized again and he sputtered. 

"Curly, you okay?" Louis said with concern.

Harry looked into Louis' eyes and the sparkle of blue pierced him like a thousand strikes to his heart. Tiny, pin pricks rippled over his skin. 

He wasn't supposed to feel this. Not t h i s. 

Louis had gone from a casual question of concern to a legit one because Harry began griping his chest and hyperventilating. Louis jumped to his side and began rubbing his back soothingly.

"Was he really hyperventilating? Over this...this...." Harry asked himself.

Something about the scene had caught the attention of one of the counselors. Actually, Harry's counselor. He pulled Louis aside and took over with Harry. Harry watched as Louis was ushered more and more away, actually sent away, told to go back to the games. Several counselors wanted to make certain Harry's odd, physical duress was treated appropriately, no distractions. 

***

Zayn was smoking in his normal spot. Liam knew the one. He went there because he convinced himself he wasn't going to go on like this. Maybe because he was jealous of Louis' friendship with Zayn. Or maybe because it was because he'd learned from Louis in that one open conversation they shared how good it felt to talk to someone other than his horse, whatever. The thing was Liam acknowledged that he wanted something with Zayn. Enough to risk this.

Liam was about to initate a bold step when Louis came running from around a corner toward Zayn before Liam had chanced stepping into Zayn's view.

Louis reached Zayn and he literally ran into Zayn wrapping his arms around him. Zayn was surprised but not standoffish. He accepted Louis' invasion of space by welcoming it, like a father welcoming such a reunion with a small child. After a minute or less of hugging in greeting Zayn pulled back a little. He stood holding Louis with one hand on a shoulder and another cupped around Louis' neck, palm below ear, so a thumb was touching the side of Louis jaw. Liam could see Zayn's thumb caressing Louis affectionately. 

This seemed intimate. Close. Personal.

Liam turned and started to leave. In his chest he felt his heart ache a little. Zayn likes pretty boys, Liam concluded. Who could blame him.

***

Zayn was not expecting a koala-like impact when Louis ran up. Why was Louis running was his thought when suddenly Louis globed onto him.

"Zayn, Zayn, Zayn" Louis panted out. 

Embracing Louis Zayn hushed him and held him not sure what had Louis so exasperated. When he felt Louis take a breath and calm ever so slightly he pulled away while maintaining a reassuring hold to ask what the fuck.

"Chill, Louis, chill. Whatz-up?"

"It's Harry. After you three left we were talking and he started to have this seizure. They kicked me out and I'm scared. Is there something wrong with Harry?"

Zayn stepped on his cigarette that he'd dropped and pulled Louis in for another hug. How does one answer that? Mentally? Yes. Physically? Not that Zayn knew. Zayn decided to stick with assumptions about the physical. "He'll be okay. He will. Here..."

Zayn pulled out his pack of cigarettes and knocked out two. He could not get an image of Harry as anything other than very healthy. It seemed odd, a seizure at Harry's age without a history of them. Louis' frenetic energy magnified his concern for Harry. This thing about Louis was too much energy buzzing too close to Zayn's required chill. Zayn was more of a smoldering cool type. Preferred the quitet loners. Something more like, well, Liam. 

"...have one. Just don't take too much in your first drag like before. Ok?"

"You think he's okay?" Louis took a cigarette that Zayn lit for him. One small puff and Louis scrunched his nose. 

Zayn laughed because Louis was so cute taking little puffs then scrunching his nose after each. He was like a kitten. His eyes though, still had this wildness like he was searching his brain for possiblities about Harry's well-being. 

"Louis m'certain he's is okay. Positive." Zayn smoked and then offered a suggestion. "Look, he's supposed to go to the relay. This afternoon we four are all in the relay together. Me, Harry, Niall and Liam. How 'bout this. What are you going to?"

"Egg and Spoon races. Handing out eggs, spoons, to the kids."

"Okay, what about this. Since you like to run so much, thank you by the way for nearly trampling me, why don't you and I switch? I'm not much of a runner and that way you can keep an eye on Harry. Not that I think anyone needs to. He's fine, he probably just looked to deep into those blue eyes of yours and fell under your spell."

Louis scoffed at Zayn's compliment but he liked the idea of switching assignments. 

"Perfect. Love to. Where are the relays?"

Zayn finished his cigarette and took Louis' away as he went to extinguish his. Dropping them both and stamping them out he said with a teasing tone, "I keep telling you, those aren't good for around here, don't I? Look, wait here and I'll go see about switching us. The mentor-people don't like surprises. Let me make sure we can swap and then you can spend your afternoon fanning Harry with a lotus leaf or whatever you want to do. From the Harry I know, pretty sure he's okay. Maybe he was playing you or something. Harry is a notorious nympho. He has got to be thinking about that arse of yours."

Zayn winked as he turned to go check on making the swap. Louis didn't feel better as soon as he was alone. He kept thinking about his swallowing comment. If Harry was such a nympho, why the reaction like Louis was a parriah? 

***

A short bit later Zayn made it back to where Louis was told to wait. 

There was no Louis. He decided since he'd taken longer getting back that Louis may have gotten impatient and left. They could have missed crossing paths after he got their switch approved because he went to make certain Harry was okay. Harry was being examined by a mentor on the ranch who was advance Wilderness CPR certified. Harry reported to Zayn that he had merely he swallowed something wrong, but it was nothing like Louis claimed. He did not have a seizure. 

Not finding a waiting-Louis, Zayn decided to go over to the egg and spoon race to see if Louis went there to avoid being late. Again, no Louis.

Zayn was deciding whether to stay at his job site or look for Louis when he noticed the four Australians quickly passing by, clearly they were heading over as a team to the Youth Derby Relay. He called to them. Michael stopped.

"What do you want Malik?" Michael said with disdain in his tone.

"Do me a favor? Let me know if Louis isn't over at the relays? We switched, I just want to be sure he knows that was settled. If he's not there, have someone come tell me."

Michael smirked. He nodded affirmative and ran to catch up to his mates. 

Zayn watched him for a minute. The appearance of slightly coagulated blood on Michael's lower lip suggested there had been some lunch break scuffle that had left a mark. Following that thought Zayn became lost in his work because the first few children were on their horses and the egg and spoon event was nearing ready to start.

***

Earlier, the four Australians found Louis standing alone in an isolated spot between barns they took a chance. They seized Louis dragging him across the ranch taking advantage of the barns for shielding, their numbers which overwhelmed Louis. In the distracted flurry of festival activity they were able to force Louis into a dark, isolated barn. It was not the easy task they had initially assumed when they first happened upon him. For someone so small, Louis put up an incredible fight. 

Eventually they had Louis tied. After, they were enjoying some pre-abandonment taunting. Louis' fight to break free from them from the moment they seized him had them all even more frustrated with him and slightly exhausted. 

Despite their superior numbers Louis seemed still willing to still fight even when secured. During their struggle with Louis, the tiny lion, made a few surprisingly good moves in self defense. Most notable was the head-butt into Michael that split Michael's lower lip. 

But there he was at last. Tied. Tied but not yielding. 

A thick long rope hung in the oldest grand barn from one of its many huge rafters that spanned the entire length of the three story high turn of the century barn. The rope seemed like it had always been there. Sometimes the lads in the program swung from it. Aside from occassional play, the barn was generally rarely, if ever, used because it was old, musty and dark. It was not a functional, efficient stable design like the modern buildings. Its doors were too few, too large or too small, too hard to open. As the ranch expanded the newer barns were built shifting away from this ancient structure so it was fairly isolated. 

The four Australians used the rope that hung from Louis' back pocket to wrap his hands together. They tied this rope to the large swinging rope which extended from the barn rafter beam. Louis' hands were therefore positioned over his head. He was also tied so that Louis had a hard time standing. He almost needed to be on his toes. It was very much deliberate by the Aussies and a tiny bit cruel of them.

Their cruelty, they taunted was because Louis "put up such a fight". 

Straining to stay with weight on his feet, Louis continued to fight back at them with his own verbal slurs. 

The four laughed at this. They enjoyed drinking some lemonade and speculating about how long it would be before anyone would find Louis once they abandoned him. Louis' face paint had smeared in the struggle and it made him no less his usual image. If anything it made him more gender-bendingly, indescribably pretty and added to their internal aggravation. Unable to accept that their ideas about his appearance were their own responsibility, not his, they chastised him about his bum, the rope...the start of it all. Most of the comments about his arse were the same in nature. 

"You know Louis, no one needs to see your big, gay booty being on show anymore than it is already just by you wearing such obscenely tight jeans."

The four laughed as each one commented on the bootilisciousness of Louis. Luke and Ashton still had their ropes from the sack races and they each made occasional passes circling around Louis swatting his bum or thighs with their ropes. It didn't hurt but Louis tried to knee them or strike them with a foot because of their intended offense.

This gave them all a laugh because his movements put more weight on his limbs tied over his head. They took pleasure in seeing him wince. 

A winch and a gasp. Breathless and...erotic.

"Don't need to be exposed to that, biatch." Michael said feeling irritated by Louis' gasping noise and yet drawn to the sounds. 

Michael was always on the edge. He knew it. His three mates knew it but they kept it to themselves; Michael had been able to keep his interest in other boys under a lid. Now seeing Louis writhe, gasp, exposed; it stirred feeling in him. Urges. 

Michael went to Louis and slid in tight behind Louis pressing his crotch tight against Louis' bum. The shirt Louis wore was pulled up due to the position he was tied in. Soft, tan, flawless skin was exposed. There was a perplexing mix about Louis. He was so tiny and thin, yet something about him was curvy and voluptuous-like. 

Michael ran his fingers along where Louis' jeans met Louis' skin. It felt compellingly good to touch the velvety flesh. Sliding a finger from where Louis was soft, the area closest to his belly button, to his hip bone which was lean, Michael felt the transition. He ran his finger further along the fabric-skin boundary guided by the top edge of the clothing following this path. It lead his fingers across the hip and across Louis' back along the upper part of Louis' bum. There Michael got into trouble. He couldn't resist dipping his index finger fully inside Louis' pants and exploring the luscious booty. Gliding across skin with fingers seeking Louis' crack, sensations charged Michael. As if shocked, Michael whipped his hand away. 

It was too much sensory overload. Michael realized this, sure, but no sooner had he snatched his hand out from within Louis' jeans than he put it back. This time he slid all his fingers of one hand deep in Louis' pants and used his other hand to press from the front of Louis' pelvis as if to steady Louis pressing Louis' body back into his own. Because of the postion Louis was tied in there was no visible movement but Michael was melding their bodies together with his hold. Even his face closed any gaps between them. He nuzzled on the skin on Louis' neck with his lips. 

Embolded by this pleasure, Michael pushed one leg between Louis' thighs. Whether it was obvious to him or not he was no longer taunting Louis, but imbibing in homoerotica. It didn't seem to matter. Michael was lost in it. He felt himself harden and when Louis breathily gasped out "N-n-no, no, stop. Please stop." the urges built even more in him. His body responded to Louis with a release of small wetness, hot precum, premonition of deeper desires. 

Michael was startled to have this attraction. Not intending to show his weakness, Michael pulled away after biting Louis punishingly hard on the lowest part of the side of his neck. 

Louis buckled again, gasped at the strain it caused and went silent biting his lip as the four laughed at his obvious pain. 

"Too bad none of us can gay up to give you more. You're so wanting some cock aren't you Princess? Stop with the tease and give you some meat, right baby." Said Michael trying to cover his lapse. "Bet you're feeling some cream in those tight pants, aren't you?" Michael wanted turn focus onto Louis fearing he'd revealed too much of himself too. 

Luke stepped in encouraged by Michael's debauchery. He took Louis' jaw in his hand and swept fingers across Louis' pain-parted lips. "If we had the time we could do him two and two. Two dicks up his ass and two in this mouth. He might like that enough to keep quiet about it." 

Calum scratched his arm and shifted uncomfortably. This was getting too far. Talking about that. Like that. Like they accepted Louis didn't matter because he was gay. In Calum's view this was just supposed to be a prank. Not assault. 

"We have to go. Now. Or we won't be, we will be, um late." ***

The relay races were run with a couple laps cirlced in the large outdoor riding area and a couple sections where the runners had to run through the cattle shoots that were used for sorting steers for events like rodeos and such.

Two teams would run at once with each of the two teams using the set of steer sorting shoots at either end of the large arena. Times were taken so each team of four would only run one race, but the excitement was always there because there were two teams to run in each heat concurrently. The first few teams of the series of races had teams made up of US boys. One of the first teams had a very fast time and appeared to be the time to beat. 

Harry, Liam and Niall watched and waited. They also wondered where Louis was given that he had traded into running with them, they learned, with Zayn.

With no sign of Louis, the three lads from the UK were getting nervous. If the start time came for their team to run and they had three? They decided they would all still run their leg of the relay as planned. Liam would run two legs. Whatever they needed to do, so be it. They were not going to pull out and disappoint their kids who they were running for. 

One of the boys from the fastest US team heard them discussing this and asked where was Zayn. Austin, Austin Mahone from Texas, was a likable, complete sweetheart of a person. When he heard about their dilemma what he did was natural for him. 

Austin made and offer. "Hey, dudes. Look, I'm done, just watching to see it when we kick your British asses back to England where they belong." He said with a wink and clear sarcasm offering no offense was his intention. "How 'bout I look for Louis and if I don't see him, I'll get Zayn."

Niall avoided correcting that he is not f r o m England and jumped in with his thanks. "We'd be massivley grateful. Could you do that?"

"Sure, no sweat. My team needs to beat you fair. It will mean more fun that way to hear you cry about it." Another wink followed the statement and Austin headed off to look for a fourth teammate for Team UK. 

The team UK watched. Two more teams ran. From their start it was clear that Austin's team had no threat from these two groups of boys. 

***

Austin was hurrying past the Egg and Spoon race. He had an idea Louis would be someplace a mentor had moved him to and so he was looking for the person with the schedules. Zayn was waiting with a basket of eggs and a handful of spoons as another group of kids were getting on horses to get ready to line up for their race. Austin decided to check with him.

"Hey, Zayn. Seen Louis?"

Zayn was looking at the kids getting into horses. Not aware Austin had come from the Relay he said, "Not since lunch. He's at the Relay."

"No. No he's not. Your team is going to run their race soon and he's not there. I'm looking for him."

"Wait, what? What do you mean he's not there. He's supposed to be there. We switched. Where is he? What about the others? Harry? Is Harry there?"

In Zayn's mind he couldn't fathom why Louis wasn't there, unless because of that thing Harry did at lunch. Otherwise it just made no sense.

"Harry's there. So is Niall and Liam. Just Louis is missing. I'm going to find him or send you over but I want to see where he's supposed to be first..."

"Wait," Zayn said. He shoved his basket into Austin's hands and instructed "Just take care of this. I'll look. Or go over there. Soemthing doesn't make sense. Help me out, yeah?"

Zayn was practically running away to sort out the confusion even before Austin could reply.

"Great," Zayn thought, "now I'm running to find Louis. I hate running. That's why I switched in the first place!" 

***

Zayn's frustration was forgotten quickly. If Louis wasn't at the Relay, or the Egg and Spoon, the only thing that made sense was to start at the beginning. Where was Louis last? Zayn went to where they smoked, where he saw Louis last. He had told Louis to wait for him there. It never occured to him until now that perhaps Louis had. 

Standing in the general area, Zayn looked for where he put out the cigarettes. He had stamped them out but as he scanned the dry somewhat sandy dirt he couldn't see even a trace of them. When he looked more closely he realized that was because they were completely mulched into the ground. Further inspection he realized more people than just he and Louis had been passing time in this spot. That was odd because it was really only a useful place to hang out to, for example, hide and smoke. 

Like something out of a western story of cowboys and Indians, the spirit of western native scout filled Zayn with inspiration. He began to evaluate tracks. Was he really doing this? Bradford city boy looking for signs in the dirt. Really? This wild out west was really getting to him.

Then he saw it. Sure enough there were tracks. A mess of traffic became somewhat organized. Zayn could see that there were four normal set of shoe prints in the dirt and one unusual looking set of tracks. Like something was dragged. Then occassionally he'd see a shoe print different from the more consistent set of four. Yes, definately, four people dragging one.

Zayn followed the tracks and when he got to the far side of the ranch the tracks faded out because more vegetation obscured them. Standing there Zayn considered the situation. 

He hesitated. What was he doing? He'd gone completely away from all activities with people. And was he imagining the tracks? As he considered what to do he looked across a small grassy open space that was between him and the ranch's oldest barn. 

The giant structure was a place he liked to sneak off to when he wanted to think. It was rarely ever a place anyone would bother to go. Too many spiders. Occassional bats.

He turned to go back when it occured to him. No one ever went there. Accept to be alone. Alone. He looked back and the big door with its large heavy iron latch looked like it was slightly adjare. 

Zayn ran to the barn. Pushing through the door it was so dark that he had to stop. His eyes needed to adjust to the change from sunny to dark. As they did he walked and called out feeling strangely self-coscious like a person sneaking into a graveyard. It was the bats and spiders creeping him out. 

"Louis?"

He heard something so he called again.

"Lou-wee!"

Again a muffled reply.

He moved further into the dark and he saw it. 

Louis was tied standing with a rope that was an old one, probably meant to lifting loads off tractors, but long since abandoned like the barn.

Zayn ran to him and found that Louis was not only tied but had duck tape across his mouth. He looked spent from strain. 

"Oh, Louis..." Zayn put his arm around Louis. He could feel that Louis just needed to be freed because Louis was limp. 

"Hold on, I'm going to get this off," With no hestiation Zayn pulled the tape quickly and Louis screamed but the cry of pain faded into a "fuckshitarse" endless string of explicatives.

Zayn was immediatley working to free the rope. Louis was tied with one rope wrapped into the bigger rope so the knots were made more tight from him hanging by them.

Zayn said to "hold on" knowing Louis probably couldn't feel his arms. His hands looked alien from the bondage draining him. Zayn found some pallets and drug them over. This made a lift so Louis could get up higher and reduce the weight on the knots. It wasn't easy but Zayn worked and old screwdriver into the heart of one knot which gave him leverage to work the knot loose. He was able to untie it. 

Freeing Louis Zayn found himself collasped upon. They both ended in a heap on the floor. Zayn could tell Louis had no abilty to use his arms. He held Louis tight and rubbed his arms that felt cold from no circulation. 

Maybe it was crying, maybe laughing, maybe who knows what Louis was trying to say. But then when Louis got the sensation of the needles and pins with circulation returning he bagan the explicatives. It made Zayn relax because he knew then that Louis was going to be alright.

Zayn laid Louis off of him and began to message and work on Louis helping to restore circulation. Zayn peppered Louis with questions of concern; "does this feel good, wiggle this, how bout this, okay push against me with this hand..."

As this resurrection unfolded Zayn got the explanantion of what happened. The Australians. 

Before they could get to a conversation of where they both needed to be, Zayn realize soon the Team UK would dissapoint their kids who pick them for the Derby by failing them. Zayn needed to see Louis spunk return so he didn't mention the time. He had a sense Louis didn't like to lose at anything. 

Zayn eventually saw the color of Louis' skin restore. Then the sparkle in his eyes. Next the mischievous expression that was a natural norm to Louis' face returned. Okay, then the sass. 

"The worst fucking part is that they have now ruined my fantasy about being bound and taken. In my fantasy being tied up has always been so hot. This just hurt like hell." 

"Hot? Oaky..." Zayn continued to move Louis' limbs and rub them. 

"Yes, hot. That was before I knew how much it hurts to be stuck like that, no circulation. In my fantasies it was more like, you know, Zayn...."

Zayn was laughing at Louis. The way Louis wasn't really mad, just upset this could knock a top ten dream off his must do sexventure list, was a refreshing was to think of a pretty cruel prank. Clealry his sass was fully restored.

"Well, your fantasies aside, thanks to this prank, the Australians have put Team UK off the potential winner's list."

"What? Wait...no!"

Louis jumped up. He jumped up and he fell down. Another "fuck!" flew across his lips and he jumped up again. 

"No! No way I'm loosing in anything to those wankers, ouch. Fuck. No!"

Louis wasn't walking very normal, even his legs suffered from the strain. Clearly, he was determined. 

Zayn loved this. The way Louis went in hard on everything. It was clearly who he was. All or none. Zayn couldn't resist. Maybe Louis only needed one small additional incentive. Zayn had an idea because of Louis confessed desire to be bound during sex. 

"Louis, not that I think you can even make it on your feet over to the Relay, yet alone run. But if you do. If you make it. You don't even have to win. But later, as a reward, I promise we'll come back here. Me, you, Niall. Do a little more polishing on Niall's personal training."

Zayn had stepped into Louis' space and was petting him. The actions were deliberately overplayed. Louis melted into it. Caressing Louis' cheek Zayn felt Louis shudder.

"Really?" Louis said looking like a pixie-meerkat with hopeful anticipation.

"Yep. I know where Kyla keeps nice extra soft ropes she only uses with the little babie colts when they are tiny. They are very soft. She likes her foals to learn early ropes don't hurt them. Also, she has a pair of sheepskin hobbles."

"Hobbles? What is that?"

They started for the door linked together and Zayn began to explain. "They're like handcuffs for horses. She says she doesn't use hobbles so I think Kyla has some set toy secrets she keeps hidded. But I know where the hobbles are. And the baby foal unltra soft ropes..."

***

It was not that Louis made it over to the relay that was surprising. It was what happened when he got there. Team UK with just three were already racing when Louis showed up. What Louis did as he joined them was going to be widly heralded as amazing for weeks to follow. Perhaps Ranch legend. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fiction makes reference to the image that may be remembered from inside the sleeve of Midnight Memories; the picture of Liam in a tank showing his perfect shoulders and Louis jumping over his head? Hopefull the next section refreshes that image as you read/ Still wish I knew how to do skins which allow the insertion of gifs like that. Oh, and there is a promise of more smut in the next bit too! :D


	9. A race, a misunderstanding.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emotions flare with hormones and rage at the relay dung the festival. There are numerous point of view shifts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zouis smut, anyone?

Across the ranch the Youth Derby Relay had gained a large end-of the-day crowd. The spectators had been growing as the various children's events had completed. Most children at the festival were extremely tired and needed to end their day with a break from physical activity. Watching the last of the sets of relays was perfect. For the the boys in the program there was no such relief. Children had picked teams. Various groups of four were running for them.

Relays had commence after the mid day lunch break. In each relay two teams of four would be running concurrently. Times were taken so the final winners might not have ever run in the same heat. The large rodeo arena was the site of the race. The race was laid out so that the two teams running simultaneously each used one half of the arena.

Part of the challenge was the sandy footing of the arena. It was deep sand intended for horses and cattle; difficult at best for a man on foot. 

Another part of the challenge was using the maze of wooden shoots at either end of the arena. The wooded shoots were set up for sorting cattle. In this, the ranch relay, the cattle shoots became part of the challenging course that the boys on the teams would run through. 

In some way this made the relay course was a mix of a couple things; one part human relay, one part dressage (because there was a pattern to follow). 

Most of the older kids watching the race found their team's run through the cattle sorting shoots particularly exciting. It was like something from the Maze Runner or the maze in the Tri-Wizard's Cup of Harry Potter. It was a thrill to see the racers from each of the opposing teams run nto a hidden "maze". The runners had to reach the back of their shoot, contact another runner from their team who was waiting to start from there. That person was the last runner on the each of four man teams. Their leg of the race was to come back through the maze, run out an into the central arena and meet where the first two of four man teams waited for them at a central arena starting point. 

The complete pattern for the four runners of each relay team was set as follows. The race began from the center of the ring with two opposing teams. The first runners of opposing teams started at center back to back. The first runner from each team made a full circle in their half of the arena. The second runner of each team made another full circle and met the third runner who was also waiting to start from the central spot of the large arena. Runner three left from the top on the circle at the center of the arena having been sent by contact with runner two. Instead of a circle they ran straight across their end of they arena to the far side and into the maze of cattle shoots. They had the challenge of running through the complete length of the cattle sorting wooden fences (a maze of shoots). At the farthest end they would make contact with a fourth and final runner who was waiting at the back of the cattle shoots. A touch from runner three would send runner four off. The final man of the relay was to go back through the maze, run back into the open arena, across to its center where the race had started touch teammates one and two were waiting. 

When it appeared Team UK was surprisingly down to only having three racers they were given the option of withdrawling or running with just three. If they ran with three they had to have one person run two legs of the relay; they could not break their race into three newly configured sections because it was a pattern; two legs of a simple circle, two legs of a maze run and a small straight away.

No one had ever thought the condition for accommodating a team of only three was even going to be necessary. News about a missing runner for Team UK had everyone was wondering what happened to the two other possible teammates but no one wanted the children to be disappointed. In addition, as much as the Festival of the Horse was about children, the program at Bar 3 was about building humanity into lost young adults. A big part of that was making them learn to trust, work together, build relationships as teams. It was central to having this huge festival in fact, so the missing teammate thing proved be the type of challenge Bar 3 wanted to see its youth learn to work together and rise to meet an unforeseen challenge. Thus, Liam, Harry and Niall stood together ready to run a man shy.

As Zayn and Louis arrived at the race Team UK was ready and set to begin.

***

Harry, Niall and Liam had resigned themselves that they had to do their best as a team of three against all the other teams of four. 

Harry would have the first leg of the relay. Niall the second. Both lads had a gregarious quality to them that could best be described as naturally appealing crowd favorites. They were innately outgoing, easy with a laugh and accessible. They wanted to run where they were had the most visibility for sake of working the crowd and cheering on their team after they finished their laps. 

At least that had been their stragedy when they expected last two legs were going to be run by Zayn and Liam; ideas set, an approach planned two weeks prior to the Festival. 

Never in their advance planning did the four imagin they might have an option of someone other than Zayn running with them. Actually, in some way, Zayn being the least interested in athletics, they kind of always knew the outcome of their race would fall on Liam who they all considered as the most competitively athletic type. They never guessed that Zayn would be switched out by a new teammate. Moreover, they never could have imaged that with two potential teammates they would nevertheless be abandoned by both, but here they were. A race commencing, no fourth teammate with them. 

Both teams were lined up. It was Team UK running in the west side of the arena and Team AU running in the east end of the arena. The crowd was livened up with noise and cheering as another set of teams were ready to go. So far the first US team, Austin's team, had still held the best time. The race with UK and Australia was the last of two teams to run so top three fastest teams would be decided soon. Everyone was cheering crazily as the anticipation for various teams to place was nearly over with this the final race of the relays.

Harry, Niall and Liam stood waiting for crack of the cap gun signaling for Harry to start. It was then that they saw Zayn and Louis coming. The three runners all shared the exact same first thought. It was already too late, after all.

"What the fuck? Where the hell have you been? What the hell have you been doing...oh...right...I get it." On a subconscious level Harry, Niall and Liam imagined the that two had been engaged in some hookup. A just between bros sex-venture. What other excuse could they have?

There wasn't time for them to process these thoughts and the corresponding emotions because the cap gun sounded and the race started. But of the three, "nypho" Harry was perhaps the least offended by an idea of Zayn and Louis. Afterall, Harry hadn't been able to even think about Louis without having an anaphyletic shock and all Harry ever understood was the need for sex... 

Niall on the other hand felt some kind of betrayal. It was supposed to be he and Zayn b o t h with Louis. A pathway for them both to gain some expertise about pleasing Liam. What was this favoritism with the two of them? Was it Louis giving Zayn extra tutoring? Was it Zayn and Louis developing an interest purely in each other?

The later option seemed at least palatable to Niall, because his interest was in Liam, afterall. Yet somehow for Niall even something about the possiblity of Louis and Zayn hooking up without him suggested that Liam's putting him second to Zayn was not just a Liam-thing. Maybe guys, ALL guys, just weren't into Niall.

Liam was the most torn raw by seeing Zayn and Louis show up together so late. Something was more important for them off somewhere else all alone together than this. They even hugged each other when the got to then arena like it was some kind of an accomplishment to just show up. Liam fumed with anger seeing their embrace. 

Liam stood in his position and bit his lip. He filled with anger and jealousy. The gun had sounded and Harry had taken off to make his lap. 

Liam had the time that it took as Harry made his lap to be enveloped in his thoughts. They were certain. If that was how it was so be with Zayn than Liam needed to go back to how he was before Louis came to Bar 3. Give up on his foolishness over unattainable Zayn. Liam wouldn't need anyone. He would chose to be alone like he had always done.

Harry ran surprisingly well. He had a little less speed than Ashton who ran first for AU, but he was still much faster in his lap than Liam had hoped. Harry didn't let the Australians get too much of a lead. Niall was off second once Harry touched him. 

Niall ran his lap extremely well too. He kept pace not losing any time to Michael so the Australian's lead was not great.

It was Luke who ran third for Team AU. Luke had a slight head start over Liam because of Ashton's lead from the first leg of the race. 

Luke took off running the course through the maze taking his route to Calum running fourth on Team AU. 

The third members of the two opposing teams had to run straight across the arena to its end and traverse the shoot, or maze to reach their fourth and final team mate waiting at the farthest end of the cattle shoots. The Australians seemed likely to have the faster of the times in their race paring against the Team from the UK. Again, they were carrying momentum started by Ashton. 

Liam took off once touched by Niall because he elected to run two legs of the relay, what should have been Zayn or Louis' third position, and his originally planned fourth leg. 

He ran straight from arena center to the shoots, through a maze just as Luke was doing running third for Australia. Liam didn't have to touch a fourth runner because he was both third and fourth, but he did have to touch a spot (marked with a bandana) in the back of the maze of cattle shoots comparable to where the fourth runner on a four-man relay team have been waiting had Zayn or Louis shown up on time. 

Struggling to make up his team's slight disadvantage from Harry's run, Liam felt himself simultaneously exhausted and newly enraged that they were abandoned by Zayn and Louis. It fueled his stubborn determination. Meanwhile on the east side Luke reached Calum who took over running in the four man Australian relay team with an advantage still carried from Ashton. 

Even in opposite ends of a huge rodeo arena complex Liam could tell that Calum was making a great time. He was on the west side of the arena in the tall, wooden cattle shoots. Calum was in the same kind of shoots on the east end of the arena. Still, Liam could hear the crowd cheering. The Australians would have a good time for the race. Better than the UK. Maybe Liam feared, better than the best time for the U.S.

Distracted by crowd noise Liam let himself be caught up in sheer stubborn determination and anger. 

*** (POV SHIFT)

Louis and Zayn had arrived too late. The runners for the two teams were positioned and the sound of the cap gun cracked to start. The first racers bolted.

Zayn and Louis galked at each other. They had tried. They had failed. Only they knew why.

They saw Harry start for Team UK. But it was a four man relay so how were the three going to do this race a man short?

Harry reached Niall and Niall sprinted off. Still Zayn and Louis were perplexed. Then as Niall ran it occured to them, Liam would be expected to run two legs of the relay. 

Zayn snatched Louis and drug him by the hand. They rushed to the western end the arena where there were the tall wooden boards that made cattle shoots were at the farthest point from the center of the arena. Inside that fence was where the person running fourth was to start from when touched by person three.

Zayn knew what had been their orignal race plan when they decided positions to run. He knew that if he had fullfilled his part on the team, he would have run third to meet Liam. He would have sent the Wolerhampton lad back out the way he'd come. This was what they had planned a couple weeks ago, days before any of them knew Louis Tomlinson.

Along the wooden fence rails of the shoot they climbed. Zayn thought maybe Louis could be where Liam could meet him and Louis could run the last leg. Effectively the switch would be Liam running for Zayn, Zayn out, and Louis running for Liam.

So instructed by Zayn Louis dropped into the furthest end of the western shoot and was waiting there to run Liam's fourth leg. 

Liam came running through the maze and he looked up expecting to see the wall at the gate at the far end and just a bandana. He was to take the bandana the race officials put there to mark him doing a second leg, an accommodation to allow the team to race a man short. And yet there stood Louis right in front of the bandana. 

Liam stopped. He saw Louis and few feet shy of the back rail. Louis and the bandana...Louis. 

Louis. 

Liam stopped, spun around and headed back out. 

The accommodations of the race rules for UK were clear. In lieu of only three runners, and to make certain the runners ran the same exact distance, Liam had to take the bandana off the gate at back end of the shoot. 

Liam knew this. Yet Liam turned too soon, short of the distance, and ran back the way he'd come.

Something Liam's brain snapped when he saw Louis. Louis was not where he was supposed to be. Again. 

He was supposed to have been in Zayn's position. Not to show up late. Not to show up all cozy with Zayn. This is what made Liam snap and do the unthinkable which would defenately disqualify their team. But all Liam could fathom upon seeing Louis was that fucking Louis was the last person on earth Liam wanted to see at that moment. 

If Louis was replacing Zayn he was supposed to be the one running to where Liam was waiting. Instead Liam was running third. There was Louis. It didn't matter to Liam that he might have a fourth runner, fresh, ready to go which would possibly help them make a good time. He was only angry. Angry, impulsive and foolish.

That was what mattered to Liam. The anger.

Liam was ripped apart by the that Zayn and Louis had been off somewhere together giving no thought to time. They had sauntered up to the arena inexcusably late. 

Sauntered.

That's how it looked to Liam. 

He could feel this thing with them. Like they were close. Partners. Partners in some crime.

So he saw Louis and he turned too soon in anger. He didn't touch Louis. He didn't take the makeshift fix for only having he three racers, the bandana, that was to prove that he ran the e n t i r e length of the course. No.

He just, just turned and ran.

Louis knew better. The switch of he and Zayn were doing had happened last minute, but it wasn't, something they took lightly as their teammates were mistakenly assuming of them. 

As Louis and Zayn had traversed the grounds of the expansive ranch, Louis was still regaining normal mobility from his torture. Zayn broke down the relay course into the four legs that had been planned so many days ago without Louis in the mix. Louis knew immediatley what was the potentially race forfeiting mistake as soon as Liam made it.

So Louis snatched the bandana, just to be safe, and ran after Liam. He was determined to overtake Liam and switch. Or at least give him the bandana. 

He called Liam's name. Liam pushed on ignoring Louis.

He called Liam again. Liam pushed himself harder to his own demise.

Louis called again as Liam stumbled in the maze of cattle-sorting shoots. Liam had tripped himself because in the quick switches of the run through the shoots and the difficulty of running on livestock substrate he was pushing himself too hard in his own self-induced stubborn rage. He'd just about recovered from his near fall when he felt finger tips on his shoulders and a rush of air.

Louis had closed their gap. He leaped, lifting like a bird souring over Liam, fingertips gliding across Liam's shoulders in the contact soft as owl's feathers. 

Landing such that he hit the ground with a lead several feet ahead of Liam, Louis ran on. Notably in the leap over Liam meant the required touch between racers had been made. 

It was Louis who exited the maze of cattle shoots from the western side of the arena since Liam with his aching heart paused after their contact. Louis' exit was ahead of Calum's on the east side. He crossed to the center of the arena where Harry and Niall were jumping with excitment and a fair amount of confusion. How it was that their team picked up runner number four? 

When Calum, running fourth for Team AU, reached his two teammates he found that Louis already there at arena center . Losing in time to Team UK the Australians were even more surprised than their UK rivals.

Louis. The Louis they had tied up and abandoned in an old barn. Taunted, nearly assaulted. That Louis. He was there at the center finish line. With his two teammates happily celebrating. Somehow Louis had miraculously made the run of last leg for the UK. The times went up and it was UK faster than the Australians. 

As Calum tried to understand the how, a few seconds lapsed, and Liam arrived. So did Luke. In the center where there should have been just celebration something else was stirring. 

***

Rankings for the teams were Team TX, the U.S. team that included Austin Mahone, in first place. Team UK was second. Team AU was third.  


As it turned out, Louis having been at the back wall as documented by a line judge for the event made it so the team with Harry, Niall, Liam and Louis was not disqualified. Liam failed to touch Louis. But the judge saw it as Louis too flight like a bird and grazed over Liam. Others had as well so there was no dispute. At least not about the Team UK time and rank.

Team UK had run their race and they had won it fairly.

And yet it didn't seem so perfect and harmonious to everyone. 

While anyone in the crowd who saw the circumstance in the western end of the arena was alive with chatter over not only had Louis managed to run a section of the relay, he'd been quiet spectacular in how he did so. Or so all the talk was following the race. It wasn't celebration universally, particulalry with Liam. 

Maybe in some way it was how Zayn greeted Louis with the accomplishment that was the trigger that put Liam over the edge. Maybe. 

And maybe, just perhaps if allowed to hear this complaint wrongly imagined by Liam, Zayn could have understood the hard feelings and explained the truth about their delay. So could Louis. 

Unfortunately neither had been given the chance to explain anything. Zayn ran into the arena and went straight to Louis who leaped into him in celebration. They were hugging each other with deeply emotional joy because they both wanted so desperately to avoid letting their team down. But Liam took everything saw in the wrong way. He was completely unaware that the entire delay of the twosome, the "sauntering", was because of a prank, cruel and poorly timed prank on Louis by the Australians. 

Niall had been similarly confused. They had ran a good race, Louis having appeared entirely too late, but in so doing help them to win a top three time. Yet clearly this was not enough to undo damaged wmotions, not for Liam. 

Harry, like Niall, stood there somewhat dazed looking. As the other two best-time teams celebrated as a foursome, in the UK group Liam looked like he want to rip Louis' head off.

Liam was seeped in pure anger. 

He started in on Louis. 

"Thanks for fucking bothering to show up within seconds of causing us to lose..." Liam barked a sarcastic thanks. He pushed Louis with a strike to the chest sending Louis backwards a few steps as he vented.

Around them the celebrations caught notice and watched. Liam's ferocity toward his team mate had caught the attention of others; the teams, the mentors and counselors. The crowd in general. Liam pushed on barking more insults at Louis, each string of words were punctuated with another shoving blow to Louis' chest.

"Guess you thought it would be funny to leave us on edge like that." He growed and shoved trying to tower over Louis who was thrown back a few more steps with every blow. 

"Funnier still to use me as some sort of platform for showing off, right?"

Liam was ranting so furiously that Louis had no chance to intervene with explanation. He accepted the blows, verbal and physical, and was only able to respond with trying to keep his feet under him and offering a defense of "no" as mostly expressed through a shake of his head.

"Who was that show for Louis? Someone in particular you were trying to empress?" Liam glanced quickly at Zayn revealing himself, his emotions, his misplaced hurt. His intensity had built such that the staff of Bar 3 was stepping in to stop the altercation between Liam and Louis. All the people around the team from the UK were drawn in by the surprising spectacle of Liam's rage.

As the first couple of staff to intercede took an arm at each of Liam's side seeing the fists he was forming with each of his hands, Zayn stepped close to Louis and wrapped an arm protectively around Louis pulling him back. To Zayn it seemed that Louis was oblivious to Liam's growing signs of inevitable outburst. Louis was too focused on a need to explain himself to Liam and not taking any precautions to guard himself.

The presence of others closing in seemed to serve to further enrage Liam. Liam's issues that had brought his to Bar 3 were rooted in this history of uncontrolled, destructive temper, violent outburst of physical rage. 

Zayn being the one pulling Louis back pushed Liam over the top. Once again it looked too "friendly" between Zayn and Louis. Liam unleashed all the anger of his jealousy. It wasn't the race, afterall that had Liam so mad. It was the appearance of Zayn and Louis together, strolling in late, like lovers caught off guard by the escape of time. 

Liam broke free from the two who held him back and struck out. Louis' quick response was to flinch and duck. So it was that Liam's fist hit Zayn driving Zayn back and to the ground.

In that split second everything about the five as newly congealed group of lads dissolved.

***(POV shift) 

Zayn was taken off the ground by some staff to be attended. Liam and Louis were pulled away from the scene in separate directions. Niall and Harry were instructed to go someplace, their rooms, and cool off too. They were both left to reflect without explanations from any of the three key players in the conflict. 

For Harry the scene was somewhat easy to resolve. As he went to his room he was concerned for Zayn. He was also curious about how Louis had so triggered Liam. Yet Harry new Liam fairly intimately; he knew Liam was a time bomb. A bomb filled with anger burying denial about himself. It was the type of personality that Harry liked to play on. 

All of Harry's sexual conquests were with people like Liam. People who allowed their insecurities to make them pawns in his game. His game was taking them. Filling them with self-loathing. A person like Liam was so easy to play. A person like Louis, assured in his sexuality, not so easy. 

Harry thought of the yin and yang of Liam and Louis. Then his brain got stuck on one thing about Louis. The sexual free will. Like when Louis flirted with him. Blatant and bold. Harry took one of his curls and played with it like Louis had done twice to him without bashfulness or fear. Fearlessness. That was what Louis had. An alien emotion for Harry. To him sexual predatory behavior was bore out of his fears. But this Louis...fearless, tiny lion. Add to that a beauty about him that Harry couldn't have imagined...oh, the pain in Harry's chest. It struck again. What was that pain? 

Harry decided he needed to stay like this hidding and alone and away from people until his breathing returned to normal. He couldn't be seen like this. Vulnerable and needy. 

Niall was not so content to just walk away after Liam's outburst.

His relationship to the three in the conflict was precarious. There was Liam, his obsession. Zayn, his friend. And Zayn who was also his obsession's quest. And then there was Louis. 

Louis was his hope for resolving his place with the other two, also, Louis was a friend. A friend so wierdly confusing and fun, and just, well, Louis. Somehow things had become so confused and Niall didn't know what to do. 

Niall should have done like Harry. Return to a quiet place to be alone. But he couldn't. He sulked along behind Liam and the two other men with Liam, ducking behind things as he followed Liam being lead away by a mentor, the one he worked the ranch with so often and Liam's counselor. Niall was afraid for Liam. All of them had to get past these types of outbursts. For Liam on a scholarship, the mistake was potentialy more grievous. Liam had to know that.

Niall continued to follow the three trying to gleen the conversation. Like a foreboding omen over head a clap of thunder sounded in the distance. This wind picked up and a foreboding chill was on the air as a storm front was approaching. 

Yes, the storm was an omen. Still Niall followed and eavesdropped as best he could. To him the words he heard flowed from Liam with pain and desperation. He heard Liam speaking about justification because of his heart breaking, the outburst because of his jealousy over Zayn and Louis. 

Niall heard this confession from Liam and saw the two men look at Liam with that compassion one has for a person when they reveal such heartbreak; terrible, painful experience and one so completely human. 

Niall's heart fell in his chest. Broken. Was there ever a place for Niall in a world with perfection such as Zayn?.

*** (POV shift) 

Explanations could come later Zayn had decided. A shiner on his right cheekbone left Zayn feeling it was best to give Liam a chance to cool. Instead he went to find Louis. Louis too bore marks from the abuse on his body from the day. No one had noticed that through the excitement of the race, the scuffle thereafter, until Zayn found him later. Sure enough Zayn discovered that Louis had rope-scrape lacerations and bruises on his wrists. 

Louis was at a sink running cool water over his wounds when Zayn came upon him. Ignoring signs of a building storm that suggested everyone should get inside and stay there he asked Louis to go for a walk with him outside. There was "someplace he wanted them to go across the ranch". 

Zayn knew what he was doing when he picked the "foaling shed". Earlier, while Zayn was throughly treated for the blow Liam delivered to the side of his face his counselor coached him on conflict resoltuion. Zayn let the man ramble on. All who witnessed the punch new Zayn had appeared to be an unintended victim . The counseling was just bullshit. Zayn nodded like he was listening as his conscious thoughts diverted to a plan for a better way to feel good than talking. 

So it was that Zayn collected Louis, they made a brief stop to their rooms before wandering across the ranch the ranch's foaling shed. Louis protested about the walk with a storm darkened creepiness settling in ominously. Louis' questions about Zayn's plan were vaguly answered with Zayn only saying he wanted to "keep his promise". Earlier the offer to Louis about tieing him up if Louis made it into the race was the only hint about their business at the small barn served the needs for everything associated with horses foaling including emergencies like equine c-sections. 

The foaling shed was actually a state of the art foaling barn not a "shed". Usually this isolated barn only had the occasion horse occupant, at foaling season. Most of the rest of the time the manager used the office-slash observation room for, well, an office. With expensively bred horse there was lots of paper work. People who liked expensive horses tended to like "papers" too. Like somehow papers made horses more valuable in the eyes of buyers.

Late at night the office was always empty. It was a stormy night at Bar 3 after a perfect day of pristine blue skies and blissfully sunny warm perfection. Everyone seemed to be indoors somewhere. No one would venture to this secluded little stable and Zayn wanted to make good on his earlier promise to Louis. After being punched, something felt right about having this new friend that Zayn knew he could trust through anything. 

Louis was surprised by "the foaling shed". Admittedly the space was steril. Padded walls, rubber floor everything designed for a mare giving birth. The odor of sterilization hung in the air. But the other thing that "hung" was a thick chain and a harness. The harness was large and padded with soft layers of leather. It was to stabilize a horse in duress with foaling.

Whatever about the room that was clinical was quickly forgotten. Zayn had come prepared. 

Candles, dried sage in special bowls for buning, a couple of joints, lube in three flavors, condoms, a feather and of course a soft rope where among his possesions.

***

Of all the things Zayn brought out from within the messenger bag he'd carried, it was the condoms that drew Louis' attention.

"Zayn. Whatz-sup with these?" Louis asked in a Zayn-styled manner of speech. "Thought you were saving yourself for someone special."

Zayn prepared the room, lighting his candles, starting incense to burn. He lit the blunt and took a few drags before passing it to Louis with the words, "Careful now," 

Louis took a small toke. 

Zayn continued on, "m'sort of playing with that in my head. Maybe it's because the pain on my cheek makes me want to reconsider whether Liam is the guy for me. Or maybe it's that m'actually afraid even more about what if he is? Maybe I can't handle him. Guess I'm also feeling that since your such a pleasure slut, this should be an opportunity to explore how much feistiness I can handle."

Zayn moved into embrace Louis and took the joint. He took a long, deep drag from it then he cupped Louis jaw with his other hand and blew his smoke into Louis' mouth as they melted in a smokey kiss. 

Buzzed and mutually aroused, the two pressed clothing bound erections into each other as they made their kissing deeper, more explorative, almost a lover's passion. 

Clothing became discarded. Zayn took care to nip off the joint so they could enjoy more as time allowed later. Having an artist's eye he scanned Louis' naked form and considered his options for wrapping Louis in the soft rope he took in hand with a smile about the challenge.

***

The thing was wrapping Louis in multiple coils and taking care to avoid going around the rope-burn bruises at Louis' wrist was almost too exciting. Zayn made Louis sit kneeling with thighs parted, arse on heels, arms behind him. The wraps with the rope that Zayn made were artistically deliberate; a coil passing just under a breast for example, was more for beauty than function. He blindfolded Louis as a finishing touch and stepped back to admire his work. 

Zayn knew he couldn't leave Louis like that too long. Even with the ropes being carefully wrapped and knotted to make this comfortable and more symbolic than actually binding, it was obvious by both lad's state of erection that this would be a quick one for the two mutually inexperienced first attempt with sexual bondage. 

"Louis, I wish I could leave you like this long enough to paint this. You should see it. You are specacular. Like this. Truly specacular."

Louis smiled and licked his lips. "Okay master artist, but I'm in this for cock. Give me something ..."

The breathless request was hushed. Zayn stepped in front of Louis to stand between the parted thighs and shoved his cock into Louis' mouth silencing him. Wish granted. But as Zayn awarded his subservient, bound partner he felt like the Louis was his master, not the other way around. It was that Louis was so appealing like that, bound for him. 

No hands to assist him, Louis took Zayn with energetic enthusiasm. Louis' skills didn't require hands to elicit a deep moan of pleasure from Zayn. Zayn continually pushed his pelvis more forward to meet Louis and dropped his hands to Louis' hair for a grasp of equally enthusiastic twist and tangle of fingers. 

They continued like this until Zayn felt certain he couldn't withhold a stirring feeling of eminent release. 

Zayn pulled back and stepped away. Louis gasped for breath. Apparently, Zayn had Louis' breath at least marginally restricted. Louis didn't seem to mind, however.

"N-no please Zee...come deep in my throat. I want to gag on your salty cum."

Zayn laughed at the desperate plea. Louis was such a slut. Unabashedly needy for it. How could he be that way? If Zayn didn't know better he'd swear Louis was created for one purpose. To be a mate for someone like Nympho Harry. 

"Patience you little cock slut, we got plenty of time, yeah?" Zayn hated to admit it. He had no time. One more second in the heat Louis' throat, with that mouth sucking him so perfectly and he would have been shooting too soon for his plan. 

Zayn picked up the feather he'd brought that was mounted on a small wooded knob. He returned to a spot close enough for Louis to feel the heat coming off his body, but he didn't allow them to touch. The only contact bewteen them was with his feather. 

It teased Louis from inner thighs to side of neck. From nipples to exposed head of an uncircumcised cock. He pretended to paint the two small divots on the upper boundary of Louis' plump bum and spine. 

Searching for more places to tickle and marvel at the responses Zayn pushed Louis tipping him forward so Louis' face and shoulders met the mat on the floor. Newly shifted, Louis was bum high, his two knees and his shoulders making a tripod. Glorious bum fully postioned for fondling Zayn played with the luscious cheeks and parted them to allow tickling Louis' hole with his feather. 

Louis cooed and pleaded. Zayn knew he had him dripping. Thighs quivering. Throat choked dry from gasping for being fucked. Louis' tiny teased hole was teased until it winked and so Zayn had to give the arse a hard slap.

"Yaasss!" Louis breathed as began to plead.

Zayn let Louis beg. Zayn's languidness was a deliberate torture that Zayn knew Louis hated yet loved. So emersed in this game was Zayn that he didn't detect the slight flicker of light which coincided with someone entering the observation area for viewing. Foaling stalls often had viewing ports so a mare could be watched undisturbed. This one was no different.

As Zayn ripped the pack to open a condom, Niall had entered the shed. He'd been looking for his friends, Zayn and Louis, the two people he believed he could trust, whose friendship he needed so desperately.

Niall was seeking comfort from his feeling of rejection by Liam. 

What he found gave him no comfort. Why were Zayn and Louis doing these things without him? Why was he once again the odd man out? Rejected and unwanted.

Zayn was opening Louis up with his fingers and spilling lube everywhere; on his fingers, on Louis, on his cock. As he coated himself he worked fingers into Louis who seemed unable to resist undulating his body like he was seeking a postion to make himself connect just right with the fingers Zayn was haphazardly thrusting inside him. 

Louis was panting and cooing but he seemed to have enough sass to sputter out some words between his desperate noises, his begging for more pleasure.

"You're..ha....hah...ha...ya'gonna...ahh have...ha...to...b-be. Oh...m-m-ore de-de-direct...ha...if you, if you...ifyouwanttogetLiamtobottomforyou." The last ten words were slurred together as one big continuous speed word. And no sooner had it left Louis' lips than he was moaning. Zayn was fingering the thing he'd been searching for. 

Seeking the knowledge of his quest...where the sweet spot was, Zayn being new to this afterall, he then immediately pulled fingers out. He used both hands to roll the unwrapped condom on. As soon as it was stretched over his length he went to push into Louis swift and fully sinking wanting to go back immediately to that special place he'd discovered. 

He hit forcefully once he was certain that he had precisely nailed the place his fingers had softened just a split second before. Louis shook and mewed for more.

Niall could only imagine how much it must have felt impossibly good from the sounds coming out of Louis' mouth. Sweat made both lad's skin glisten. Zayn seemed unable to keep his hands still on one place as he began to fuck Louis with repeated powerful thrusts no longer any hestitation after his discovery. 

Niall's view was more from behind so he saw how beautifully Zayn's tiny booty made a clench of cheeks as he hit bottom. He could tell the instant Louis' orgasm hit from the way not only Louis screamed in a new pitch of pleasure, but also from how it seemed it had barely broken the point of crescendo before Zayn had to pull himself out, rip his condom off and let himself go. Zayn spread his seed across Louis' back.

Exhausted, Louis tipped over to his side. His arms tied behind him made his list in an awkward shift to neither fully sideways facing nor facing up. He was asking Zayn for something. So soft in his plea was his voice that Niall couldn't hear through the viewing port, but Zayn responded. 

Zayn moved so his pelvis was inches from Louis' face and Louis opened his mouth wantingly. Zayn put his dick bewteen the begging lips and Louis cleaned off jizz with short alterations of sucking Zayn's dick and licking it. Meanwhile Zayn assisted by squeezing a drop or two of the sacred fluid from his slit. Niall saw Louis take it hungrily. Louis hummed to say it was delicious and this made Zayn smile and pull Louis' hair to take his head back where Zayn could taste himself with a deep kiss into Louis' mouth.

Uncomfortable with crestfallen, heartbroken torment Niall thought to try to rise to be brave enough to join the party.

Then he saw Zayn was hardening again. Zayn stroked himself like he was not going to let the renewal wane and abandon this. Zayn pulled the rope to bring Louis so Louis was on his back and having to brace with his feet flat on the floor his hips canted by the way his arms were tied behind and under him. Zayn made sure Louis was balanced and began to speak his intent. 

Zayn pulled off the blindfold, showed Louis his desire held in his hand. Yes, now Zayn was completely hard again. From the way Louis was looking at Zayn, Niall could guess the look in Zayn's eyes was noticably dark, hungry for more Louis as well. 

At least Zayn's, words to Louis from what Niall could hear expressed the desire. He both praised Louis and chastised him. As Zayn was slidding on another condom readying to enter Louis again, Niall was slidding out the door. Again his exiting flicker of light was unnoticed by the lovers. Zayn was taking himself into his own world again, a world that was his pleasure deep in fucking Louis Tomlinson, the only thing that mattered for this momment.

*** (POV shift) 

When Liam was walked back to his room by his counselor the process of curfew check was underway. Harry, Louis, Zayn were all where they were supposed to be. 

Checking Niall's room the mentor who had curfew duty found it was empty. Lights on, nobody home. Discussion between Liam's counselor and mentor announced to others on the quad of rooms that someone was still out. Everyone started peeking curiously out of their rooms particulalry when the counselor who had walked back with Liam made the mistake of saying something about Niall's room and "a note".

The two men stood in the hall where one was reading the note to the other. Everyone listening heard them.

"Someone very special to me once said he liked the mountains here because one could simply get lost in them. Since I am special to no one, I'm going out to see if getting lost is truly possible." 

Echoing the notes grim implications wasa clap of thunder. It sounded and the building seemed to quake. 

The two men on the staff, a mentor and Liam's counselor, were stricken alarm. The note sounded hauntingly suicidal. Their words spoken between them next were hushed as they felt the need for conversation privately. They decided to make haste and alert others on staff. The need for a thorough, immediate search for Niall was evident.

Once they left the corridor all the lads from England came out of their rooms. They rushed to compare what they thought they had heard and the implications of it. 

The four lads from the UK nervously talked over each other until it became clear that they had all heard the same thing. Niall was missing. Or at least breaking curfew. But there was a note. Something he said was about "someone special", getting "lost in the mountains", having the feeling of "no value" to anyone.

Once the confirmed by their consensus what Naill had wrote, what it might have implied by it, Louis ran into Niall's room and retrieved a wire-ringed notepad. The notepad was full of the same kind of paper as the note was written on that the men found. Flipping through the pages of Niall's notepad to find something he came to a page that he was looking for. On it was a note written in his own hand, a message he and Zayn had left for Niall earlier.

Big and sloppily written were the simple words, "Niall come meet me and Zayn at the ? Foaling shed? Shhhh! Just another threesome. Come soon or we'll cum without you!" There was a smiley face and it was signed Louis T.

Apparently the note was never seen by Niall. An invite never received.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Absolutley no one gets hurt in this fiction. Niall is mistaken, Liam was mistaken. Promise no cruelty to readers...other than delays in fixing the blooming typos. Editing shit.  
> Next chapter all hades breaking loose with the storm and a threessome again... Comments pleeeeeeassee!


	10. Into the storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niall runs away on Snowball. The other four risk a dark, dangerous storm to find him.

Niall left the foaling shed and ran to his room. He slammed his door hoping someone would hear it but no one responded. He never considered that Liam was still with his counselor. Nor did he consider that Harry might be listening to music on his headphones as he liked to do. Of course Zayn and Louis were, well, fucking without him. Literally. 

His door-slamming cry for attention went unnoticed so he grabbed his notepad.

Upset with tears clouding his eyes he failed to notice the pad was deliberately left open on his bed. The page revealed a note scrawled to him.

No. Nial wrote a note of his own. A vailed threat. Something part haiku, part romance, part prophecy. At that momment Niall felt like his heartbreak was more powerful than anyone in all of humanity had ever experienced. No one could understand his pain, he thought. Niall was beyond rational thought with his "teenage angst".

Once his note was written Niall felt required to act. He dreaded this, because now that he considered it, the storm was awful.

Taking care to find the proper clothing he dressed to go out into rain that had grown torrential. 

When he made his way to the barns the rain was so hard that there were streams of runoff crossing the paths between buildings where normally it was like hard pack concrete because of the arid western conditions. He made his way to Barn A and found that although the ranch had lost power from the grid the generators had taken over working. There was some light in the stable. Walking down the line of stalls he was looking for the right horse. As he passed each stall they turned to see who was disturbing their rest at a non-work, non-feed hour. Too smart to choose to be in their outdoor corrals that were open to each them off of their stalls each horse went back to staring out into the dark clearly happy to be inside and dry. 

Snowball was not so happy when Niall stopped and unlatched her door with a halter in hand. The little white horse looked at Niall as if he was insane. He took her from her dry, warm place and went to fetch a saddle for her. She nudged him a couple times and shook her silky white mane to say, "What really? Are you crazy boy?"

Being dutiful and kind she bore Niall out into the storm and made not a sound walking away from her home and dry comfort. Most horses would have made an understandable fuss. Not the unicorn. 

***

The discovery of Naill's note had all the staff, mentors and counselors running for answers. Snowball and the tack missing sent them to search search taking to horseback. Overhead the storm raged, rain fell in torrents lightning lit the sky and thunder seemed to shake the ground.

***

The Rocky Mountains where Bar 3 was situated was a wild place. Young, rugged mountains and unforgivingly random storms came as if conjured by magic. Many lives had been lost in the terrain by people misjudging the sudden shifts of weather and the perils of exposure without proper gear. It wasn't the lions, bears or the wolves, was the stupidity of humans own decisions that did the most damage. 

Niall was not so stupid. He remembered Kyla telling him about all kinds of things that presented dangers away from the range. A bull moose raising its head from the brush, once sent her horse spinning to flee the large herviore. Careening full speed the horse ran back toward home through a forested trail she told Niall. A horse in panic has two survival modes: rearing or run like the devil. So being smart about horses Niall took Snowball.

He rode into the dark and up the trail. The wind was driving rain sideways. It seeped into the area above his coat's collar and trickled down into his clothes under his rain gear. This almost made him reconsider. Sure he was having a fit. A tantrum. Being dramatic...maybe he should reconsider. Nevertheless Niall pushed Snowball on. 

Soft resistance from Snowball spoke to him that he shouldn't be such a child. 

It was just his heart. Niall realized as he rode on that the "rain" under his hat, trickling along his neck and into his clothes was actually his tears. His heart wanted love. 

For over a year it had seemed that the love he sought was forever beyond his reach. When Louis came it seemed that the new lad was the start of everything being different. Maybe Liam would learn so see Niall. Maybe. 

But given the way Liam reacted to Zayn, spurred on by Zayn appearing to be with Louis, maybe things were not ever going to change, Niall feared. 

As the stormed cracked thunder over head Niall continued in self pity. He didn't notice that the rain washed earth from under Snowball's feet as they climbed. Niall kept heading up the mountain. He would indulge his tantrum.

***

Not long after Niall left the mentors had set out to search for him. They took the road to the trail heads and split to make their way in teams of two. The team that went to the north trail head, found what was sign that Niall had passed through the gate heading out. Calling the others they converged and began to follow the trail. 

The search teams had not traveled far from the ranch when they came across an unexpected scene. There were massive washouts. With the lightening intensifying over head, a trail appearing increasingly impassible they paused. The washouts were cutting away sections of earth because of the sheer volume of rainfall. As they pondered what to do one rider experinced a tale-tale sign of eminent lightening strike. Static electricity began to cause hairs in his horse's mane to lift up. The storm had built to unprecedented fury. Sadly they decided it was too dangerous to continue searching until the worst of the storm, the dangerous lightning, had passed. They turned back to the ranch. 

*** 

It was not easy for the four lads from England to see the teams' return. The returning search parties shared their concerns logically and why a difficult decision was made. They would wait until morning or until the storm broke, whichever came first, then they would initate a fresh search. 

Told to return to their rooms it was Liam who was steadfastly refusing to accept any delay looking for Niall. Storm of not. This determination to be superhero even facing tremendous obstacles was so very, very Liam. Liam was cut from a cloth that made it easy to see if his struggles in youth had been different he would be something like a fireman. 

Discussion of trail washouts and the flooding rivers hadn't deterred Liam or Harry for that matter. It made Zayn nervous. Louis was clueless and trying to follow what was developing between Liam and Harry as it seemed they were developing a strategy for their own search for Niall. 

To Harry, an experince equestrian at the fox hunt, this problem of the path being blocked seemed quite miniscule. Horses could gallop and cover ground fast, why not head perpendicular to the washout then find a place to turn and come up around? They decided to just that. Ride to the south, take the easiest, flat, shallow crossing of the river where the expansive grassy marshes resisted the force of flood. Once forging the river where it was not so dangerous they could turn back traversing the west or east slope heading north. 

Not a word more spoken, Liam and Harry changed for a wet, night of adventure. Zayn and Louis followed them to he barn but they weren't intending to do this as a group of four. Zayn and Louis were along just to keep watch and be potential distractions until the other two had made it safely away. Liam and Harry n e e d e d to do this search. They no longer had faith in the adult staff of the ranch that enough was being done. For the two of them they were young and invincible. This plan was possible.

*** 

Buzz was unwaveringly devoted to Liam. So many hours together made the sorrel horse calm about anything Liam asked. Accepting the bidding to do work in the rain? Of course, Buzz could do that. 

Harry went to find his favorite mount for the challenge too. Jazz, a large bay thoroughbred. Jazz questioned the appearance of Harry bringing a western saddle instead of his standard English gear, but he let the surprise tack choice pass and took it in stride. Each horse had an innate sense from their riders' demeanor that this was an important job to do and it was no time for hestitaion. Exercised regularly, working horses, like these actually liked to have a challenge now and then. 

Liam on Buzz and Harry on Jazz left the barn and headed at a gallop to the south. 

Lights went on that were normally reserved for when the ranch was under full power, not running on generators. This was a cue to Zayn and Louis that someone saw the two horses being ridden away. They watched from the barn as vehicles were started and personnel took to the road going in the same direction the two lads had riden. 

Not wanting to see Liam and Harry intercepted without a chance, Zayn and Louis decided that they too would take a couple horses, scramble the searchers attention, make the prospect of finding Harry and Liam more of a trick. It was a game they intended simply. Lights went on in barn B, they knew horses were a getting tacked up, probably to seek who rode out. 

Rushing to look at their options Zayn was trying to decide who to take from A barn. He passed down the isle of the barn looking at the horses and trying to remember which ones were best for what. Louis did the same and almost immediatley stopped at the stall door of a little dun mare new to the ranch named Sweetie. 

"I got mine!" Louis said. "Look, she's even named Sweetie, what more do I need?" 

The little horse seemed willing. She was at the door like she wanted to go out. At least to Louis her ready to go with him attitude seemed like she was saying "Pick me!" 

Zayn stopped at the door of a horse named "Styx". He remembered Styx. It was the first horse he'd ever riden at Bar 3. The big horse had some light draft in him. To many he seemed too big and too sluggish. Zayn remembered he liked the horse because once past the difficulty which was the getting on him, the horse felt "safe". He walked slow, lazily, he kept his head down low like he knew his size was off-putting and he wanted to be a smaller horse. 

Zayn had to quickly saddle both horses because Louis was a disaster of inexperience. "Lou-wee, don't you know anything about horses?" Zayn asked as he finished tightening Sweetie's girth for Louis. 

"I know not to tie them to me. I know how to hold a rope to lead them...and I know that stallion hates people coming into his corral." 

The blissful simplicity of Louis. 

Zayn tapped the tip of Louis' nose, shaking his head at the innocence. How anyone could be so naive like a child on one hand and yet be so sexual and naughty on the other?

They were out of the barn and riding to where they thought they could run cross paths with the mounted staff to create confusion. The thinking was to get where it seemd they'd be if they were Liam and Harry sneaking back. They wanted to lead the staff away from the direction their mates were actually traveling. 

Zayn knew the ranch pretty well. Yet somehow in the storm he became a little disoriented. They saw headlights of vehicles searching for riders from along the road. Zayn thought he was where he wanted to be when he realized he was turned around. In the rain it was impossible to hear each other and he kept loosing sight of where Louis was on the smaller horse. Another thing they discovered was that Sweetie was actually a pretty nervous little mare. She was calling to other horses and pacing around a lot and Zayn felt Louis was overmatched in riding her. 

He watched, as when they stopped and looked for points to orient by. The mare danced around unable to decide what to focus on. She probably heard her stable mates neighing to her from back at the barn. Her ears flicked back and forth at something behind them across the river. She called out to that direction too. 

Styx, by contrast as still quiet and peaceful despite a raging storm. The horse was just one born a total kitten. Huge? Sure. Athletic, absolutely; he could jump the moon. But prancing and nervous like Sweetie? No. He stayed calm. 

Zayn looked closer at Sweetie and he realized she wasn't just wet but that she was actually sweating. The rain was cold and yet the little horse was dancing more and more. Confused, nervous and agitated. It was then that the mare did the unconscionable thing. 

They were following the river from where they had made tracks to seem like Liam and Harry circling back from the south. Zayn knew that Liam and Harry were long since over the river and maybe paralleling them on the far side. This might be why the nervous horse was torn bewteen calling to stablemates at the barn and calling off to someone on the other side of the river. It could be Buzz or Jazz she was neighing to. 

What she did next surprised Zayn completely. Surprised him and took Louis totally off guard. 

Horses who are over-exposed, pushed too hard, getting with too little confidence from their leader can do stupid, stupid, dangerous things. Sweetie found her restraint from Louis on her reins too constricting. She kept turning unable to run for home when she must have heard, Zayn realized too late, the certainty of the other horses up the trail. She acted on impulse. So Sweetie jumped. 

How Louis stayed on Zayn couldn't fathom. But into the river the little horse jumped. 

This was not the shallow section of river that Harry and Liam forged. It was deep and fast moving water from the storm runoff. The mare was probably surprised herself that she had to swim. She swam but Zayn could only see her drifting down river as much as she was crossing it with great struggle to cross to shore. Louis was holding on, but again Zayn knew not how. 

Unable to delay, into the water Zayn and Styx plunged. Zayn's big horse took the river with powerful strides and managed to keep himself heading pretty straight. He got to the opposite bank and Zayn saw that Sweetie was strugging to climb out. 

Styx was able to pull himself onto the opposite bank first because of his size and strength but when Sweetie made it to solid ground she still didn't pause even though she msust be exhausted fight the river current. Instead Sweetie took off at a full gallop and went right up into the trees following a forest trail away from the river and up the mountain. 

Zayn and his horse were probably equally surprised. Probably both shared the same exact thought of Sweetie. "Biatch!" 

It took no cue. Styx picked up his feet and with ground-covering, powerful strides he took a lope up the trail in pursuit of the half-crazed mare. 

Zayn thanked the horse for being such a champ and prayed that Sweetie would reach her probable target, her barn-mates Buzz and Jazz, before she threw Louis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the last chapter was so long this update is deliberately shorter. Thanks for reading!


	11. Fallen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a stormy night Liam and Zayn find their runaway friend while Harry and Louis find a near fatal disaster.

Niall realized that he was acting like a child but it was too late to simply turn around. He knew going out a trail, slippery and dark was a bad idea. 

In the recesses of Niall's troubled mind he also knew there was an old cabin somewhere along his route. Liam had spoken of it before. He kinda hoped the little white horse knew where it was because she had settled into a walk with purpose. Perhaps her horse-sense told her where her clueless person needed to be. 

Not so clueless, and with purposeful speed, Liam and Harry were making progress coming up the trail in a desperate search for Niall. They couldn't know they where closing the gap but they were. As much as their pace was gaining on Niall they eventually came to a branch in the trail. This is where they had to stop a make somekind of a decision. Which way should they go? 

The branch of the trail heading westerly went further up in a gradual climb leading to a series of open meadows. It eventually dropped back down into the flatter terrain and vast open range. Liam had taken that route many times because the ranch frequently had cattle grazing during the summer which meant he'd go with his mentor to check the herd. The cattle tended to seek out the open grassy meadows higher up for better forage. Most of those meadows were unavailable to cattle throughout the winter. Only in the summer could they graze higher meadows. Liam's job to make certain the pumps were working that kept the wells automatically supplying water to the troughs the animals depended upon when away from flowing water and riverbeds.

The trail branching off to the east paralleled the western trail for a short distance but then it circled around and looped back making a steeper descent to the edge of a large hay field. That field marked Bar 3's boundary with a neighboring ranch. Whether it was the steepness of the trail to the east or that led very close to a ranch owned by a notoriously grumpy old man who lived at a ranch next to the Bar 3, Liam hadn't found many reasons to go that way. 

So Liam tried to put himself in Niall's mind and think about what Niall would do. 

If Niall went west at the fork he could keep going for a long way without ever nearing a ranch boundary. If Niall went east he had to endure a pretty steep, treacherous slope until he got to an open, flatter hay field. 

Liam and Harry were stopped deciding what to do. They knew they didn't want to spilt up at the branching trail because of the dangers of being out alone. That's when their horses began to flick their ears and act like something was out there. 

Was it Niall?

Within a minute of the horses alerting them to not being alone Jazz neighed. He called out loudly and looked around. Jazz strained his neck around like he wanted to see back d o w n the trail as if to better hear a response coming up from behind them. Buzz looked the same way as Jazz. Neither horse was signaling interest in the paths that laid ahead, the direction the two riders believed Niall to be. 

Liam and Harry were speculating. Could they have missed Naill somewhere? Had he stepped off the trail? Did they pass by him without notice? They couldn't fathom how they could have missed him, but with heavy rain even the sign of their own passage immediately behind them was washed away, so just maybe. 

They were just starting to discuss the unlikeliness of mistakenly passing Niall when the heightened interest of their horses interrupted them. Both of the horses were unquestionably looking back down the trail they had just rode up. Their ears were directed, their eyes focused and they both called out with loud whinnies. 

In a flash, Liam and Buzz, Harry and Jazz were intercepted by one wild, runaway buckskin mare and a bedraggled Louis. Sweetie arrived looking like she'd been at a full speed gallop all the way up the mountain. 

"Louis? What the..."

Before they could complete their query from the same trail behind them came Zayn riding up on the horse Styx. Styx came up the trail behind them at a easy lope covering the ground with grand strides. When he saw the three stopped ahead Styx calmly dropped out of his lope into a walk bringing Zayn up to the other three.

The comparison of the two new arrivals to one and other was an amusing contrast. 

Louis arrived looking a terrible fright, like he'd riden in on a hurricane. Zayn however, came to a stop by the other three looking as he always did; liked he'd just stepped out of the pages of some fashion spread. Cool, calm, mysterious and drop-dead gorgeous. 

"Funny meeting you here," Zayn said. Louis whose delivery had been specacularly disheveled had yet to speak. 

*** 

Zayn was breath-taking in the ambiance of the storm. Something about him. Was it the way he looked wet? The darkness of the night? Was it the danger of the storm merging with darkness and wetness to enhance his mystery? Maybe it was the horse he rode, being so very big and traveling like a war horse of experience? Maybe all those things enhanced that kingliness that shrouded Zayn. 

Whatever it was Zayn behavior seemed uncharacteristically giddy with delight of encounting his friends on a treacherous mountain slope in a hellacious storm. 

Louis, on the other hand had burst onto the scene on a small mare whose manner of arrival suggested she had travelled her entire route in a panic-stricken gallop. As soon as she reached the two geldings Liam and Harry rode she tucked her head into Jazz seeking his comfort. Sweetie's sides heaved from her exertion and her body bore a white foam of sweat that a horse could develop, even in the rain, because of such extreme exertion. It appeared her singular focus had been running until she found safety or died trying to do so. Running was nature's survival for a horse, afterall. 

Luckily for Louis he had strong legs because Sweetie had clearly put him to the test in the worst of elements. Louis' legs were probably the only thing that was in his favor. He and Sweetie were decidely a disaster waiting to happen, the worst possible pairing; an inexperienced rider and inexperienced horse. Two idiots in a storm...in the dark. 

Liam had a hard time pulling his eyes away from Zayn so he wasn't thinking about anything other than Zayn. Harry, on the other hand asked with a concerned tone of Louis, "Louis you okay?" 

Louis did not answer so Harry repeated the question with a bit more urgency. 

Harry's repeated query made Zayn second it, adding, "Can't believe you survived that, yeah, so are you okay Louis?" 

Liam broke from his spell of fixation on the princely Zayn and was preparing to repeat the other's question when Harry repeated louder, "Louis, you okay?" 

It was on Harry's third ask that Louis finally snapped from his silence and nodded. His nod was rapid, unusually hyper, like someone would do to say "yes" when no, they were really not okay. As if they'd been on a death run through hell. Zayn saw it as such and was quick to explain. 

"After you left we saw what looked like trouble coming your way. We thought we would run some interference. Draw the staff away. We got to the river and little Sweetie here decided she had her own agenda..." 

They all looked at the young mare. She continued to nuzzle her face into the big calm gelding that Harry rode. It was a case of puppy love. Or in her case, filly love. Afterall she was a very, very young mare, in heat and really not capable of restraining from herself from her hormonal impulses. A teenager. 

Zayn was explaining, "She took a huge leap for love, not sure if she thought she could jump the entire river or what but in she went and then when she got across she headed straight into the woods, up the trail, in a full speed gallop. I kept thinking I'd find Louis stuck somwhere on a branch of some tree or tossed off her somewhere, but here we all are. You okay Louis?" 

It was clear by Zayn telling of the adventure that brought them together that Zayn's demeanor was tied to his elation to see Louis still alive. He was almost giddy because the odds were not in Louis' favor. 

Louis nodded frantically again. "Wanna get off n-n-now." He said stammering. 

It was had to see in the dark but his mannerisms, the way he spoke, suggested he was not so very okay. Nevertheless they still had a man hunt to execute. 

Harry and Liam had dim lights with them. Headlamps only, pointed down directly so the lamps aided their visibility some. It was still enough to see very much or see very far. Mostly they had relied on their experienced horse's keener night vision, horse-sense, to guide them safely. They not have been able to see much detail but Harry could tell Louis was shaking a bit. 

"Louis are you okay? Are you cold?" 

Louis stammered like he was cold, but he said he was not, "N-n-no, not cold, hot!" 

They all laughed. It was a laugh out of the awkwardness over the entire situation. 

"Yeah I bet your sweating! Can't believe you survived that hell-bent charge that foolish horse made for her lover boy. Seems she's okay now though. You might survive too if we get ourselves moving and stop sitting here waiting for lightning to find four horses who are wearing metal shoes in the middle of a storm...on top of a mountain!" 

*** 

The question remained. Liam and Harry had stopped at a fork in the trail. The gush of rain made prior tracks impossible to decipher in the mud. Which way to go to find Niall? 

They decided to spit. Two would take the trail up that led to the west slope and was the long way around the outside boundary of the ranch. It was a way Liam had traveled that way many times. 

Zayn seemed compelled to go that way too. Whatever the draw, the likelihood that Niall knew that way was a safe trail that was within the ranch boarders, or maybe for Zayn, it was just that Liam said he wanted to go that way. If for no other reason than the latter, it was enough to sway Zayn though he kept that hidden from Liam. He announced this was also his intent. Go to the west, search more for Niall that way. 

If Liam happened to be going that way too...well, whatever. 

Harry was fine with heading along the other trail. He seem to have the horse under him which was the subject of Louis' horse' fancy so it seemed natural that they were splitting in two groups of two. Two who were differently paired than how they each started out. There was no argument from Louis about following Harry. 

And so they parted. Liam and Zayn heading west making a big loop to one side of the ridge, and Harry and Louis to the east on the other side. 

Liam and Zayn immediately became noisy in conversation. Zayn was uncharacteristaclly intent on talking. As he and Liam faded off from view after their first few strides along different trails all Harry heard was something Zayn was saying to Liam. It seemed to be about Niall. 

The rain had finally eased to a near mist making it easier to hear. The lightning and thunder had subsided too. Off in the distance the lightening illuminated the sky and lit up the silhouette of other mountains in the distance. It was beautiful now that the feeling of danger was reduced. 

Not much after the four split that Harry became concerned about his new partner who had fallen silent. Harry heard the sounds of a second horse closely in step behind his but not a word from Louis. It was an eery quiet on their path to the east. 

Harry thought about their trail. It occured to him that the eastern route made a quicker descent back to the ranch complex because it had a steep slope to return to more flat ground. He started calling over his shoulder to Louis about what to expect. 

"This trail is going to turn back to level soon..." 

"First it's gonna make a steep incline for a little bit...nothing too bad but sit back when you feel your horse is going through a steeper pitch heading down..." 

"Don't worry if it seems muddy, they have four wheel drive. Usually they just drop their bums into the hill and take the slide okay..." 

Still nothing from Louis. 

The east, the steep descent, it was swirling in Harry's mind how treacherous it really was to ride if you were inexperienced and over-matched on horseback like Louis was. And Louis was sooo quiet.

Harry was about to say something to interupt the silence when he heard a chilling sound. What was it? The horse or Louis? Or was it both? 

*** 

Liam had no idea Zayn could talk so much. Who knew? To Liam's knowledge no one had ever heard Zayn ramble on like like that before. 

Well maybe no one. 

It became apparent as Zayn spoke, confessed actually, that the day when Liam had spilled his secrets to Louis in the dining hall was not the only time a self-imposed recluse had been open and willing to share all with Louis. 

Apparently Zayn and Niall had become quite close to Louis as well. Telling tales. 

And being honest. 

And open, very, very open...and...did Zayn say what? 

Never mind that what Zayn had just said because Zayn was just getting to the part about the day, earlier this day, the festival, the switiching games, "the prank" messing up the switch among the Team Brit. He said something about Louis being pranked by the Australians. Zayn was explaining, "tied in a barn" where Zayn found him. Liam realized he had been mistaken in his blame. Louis was never abscent-mindedly trying to ruin their chance in the relay race. In fact according to Zayn, Louis was remarkably determined to make it over to the race and participate in it. 

Then Zayn was onto revealing something else about Louis...and him, Zayn. It made Liam's mind go a little fussy so he might have missed some of what Zayn said about how maybe Niall was left out...not meant to be and ... 

...oh. 

Liam was trying to consider his range of emotions when they came upon the cabin he knew was along this trail. Sure enough their horses called to a responsive, lonely, little Snowball. 

The white horse was tied in a three-sided shed where she was dry and protected. Liam and Zayn couldn't see the light emanating from the cabin but knew there would be warming glow. They could smell the wood smoke of a fire made inside the cabin. They quickly tucked their horses in the shelter with Snowball and went to the cabin. 

The cabin door was bolted. As Liam and Zayn pounded on it and announced who they were it was humorous to hear the sounds of Niall struggling from inside to undo the latches of the old structure which were probably not to maintained for ease of use. 

When the door finally opened, Zayn launched himself inside, grabbed Niall and kissed him. 

It was astoundingly passionate. The kind of thing that when you witness makes one feel oddly like disappearing because it is meant to be private. 

Liam felt like that. Like disappearing. Now Liam wanted to run away in a tantrum which he had concluded Niall had done when he felt rejected by Zayn and Louis becoming a twosome. 

Zayn released Niall and stepped back. Niall's breathlessness from the kiss was evident. He just stared at Zayn, wavering a bit, like maybe his knees were weakened.

Liam's words left his mouth without his brain telling him they were audible.

"But wait...I thought you were into Louis...didn't you...with...weren't you? Didn't you just tell me?"

Zayn pulled Niall into him with one arm in a more brotherly and less overtly passionate hold. 

He looked at Liam. Rolled his eyes. 

Zayn's words were obviously no-nonsence. "What are you talking about? Louis? Into Louis? Why would I be into Louis? Weren't you listening to what I said when we rode up here?" 

Liam stood there shuffling his feet and feeling the cold of wet dripping into little spaces between his layers of clothing making it to skin. It was the first time he realized just how cold the rain was. Like all mountain storms could be, each step in elevation made one that much closer to extreme. 

Extreme was exactly how he felt. Extremely awkward, confused. Perplexed. What was Zayn talking about? He got it that Louis was not intending to miss the race. He got it that Zayn had some "interlude" - interlude was the word because Liam couldn't think of Zayn having "it", or doing whatever, with Louis. This "event" apparently left Niall out and so, here they were. Niall had some thing for Zayn or Louis. Or both. And Niall was left out. 

"I don't think I quite understand..." Liam started to say when Zayn stepped into him, slid an arm around his body and crushed lips onto Liam's forceful enough to work his tongue directly into Liam's mouth. 

***

Harry looked back and his trail mate was gone. Vanished.

In fact the entire trail behind he and Jazz had disappeared. The saturated ground had slid away. When it went gave out it took Sweetie and Louis with it. 

Harry lept off Jazz who stopped immediately as soon as his rider evacuated the saddle. Standing beside Jazz it allowed Harry to feel that even the earth under he and his horse. The ground felt like it was weakening from the rain saturation. Harry shown his light down the slope. He saw Sweetie and Louis were about 3-4 meters below him where brush and undergrowth vegetation had stabilized the ground and stopped their slide. 

The buckshin was almost laying on her side with her legs somewhat stuck into a shrub. It was like her legs were needles stuck into a pin cushion. 

Harry realized he was screaming and it looked like Louis was just holding on. Only then for the first time did Harry realize Louis had been riding in simple Vans tennis shoes like he wore all the time around the ranch. Harry realized this because he could see that the leg that was on the outside of the slope was still on the side of the horse where it should be if a horse was standing upright. 

The other leg, the slope-side leg was thankfully not trapped under the horse against the hill. Harry could see Louis had it bent and was kneeling with that knee on the seat of the saddle. His foot on the kneeling leg was bare having lost his shoe. Louis looked positioned like he was mid way bewteen getting on or off the horse, just barely holding on for dear life. It was also then that Harry realized Louis was only wearing a light rain coat. No other proper gear.

He screamed for Louis to hold on, just hold on. Stay there. Don't move. Don't do a thing.

Sweetie tried to get up, because she was on her side and it was only natural for a horse to not want to be like that. Harry imagined she could have been pretty badly impaled as she slid over fallen forest debris with the mudslide and was only stopped by the sturdiness of the large shrub. He couldn't know for certain her condition until he got down the hill to them. 

His immediate concern was the fear that if she struggled she'd throw them further down the hill and maybe begin to roll. If she rolled over Louis...

Hold on, Harry kept yelling and he screamed to Louis "Louis push her head down so she stays flat to the hill. Push her head down! Don't let her try to get up yet! Put both hands on the side of her head and hold her there! I'm getting a rope and coming down to you. Just don't let her struggle there!" 

Harry was shaking so hard his hands barely worked. He was so grateful that Jazz was calm and so big. The horse done it all. Eventing, working cattle, mountain trails, even pulling a wagon. The horse knew the ranch, the mountains. He was a solid horse. Harry got the lariat off the saddle and put the end with the honda over the saddlehorn. He petted Jazz on the neck and said to the horse who knew this was not a good thing happening with the young mare, "Now you stand here boy. Real still like. Okay?"

Jazz snorted. It was horse speak for, "I got this. The prettiest fillies are always the hugest trouble, you human better go get her."

Well at least in Harry's mind he heard the horse say that. He needed calmeness of a friend, imaginary dialogue or not.

Lowering himself with the length of the rope Harry made his way down. He was sliding more than walking but he cautiously came to Sweetie's head. 

The washout had cleared everything from where they had been up on the trail to where a huge Dogwood shrub had stopped their slide. Harry took a hold of the bridle on Sweetie's head and he spoke calmly. 

"Easy girl, easy Sweetie. Stand." Harry thought how stupid it was to say "stand" to her. Right. The horse was on her side. Stuck in a shrub. She had a frightened boy pushing her upper neck into the earth beneath her on a steep, wet slope. 

Once he got down by them Harry also realized that the slope below them became even more crazily steep so this rescue was about doing it right on the first try or someone could die. Louis was fixed on a desperate hold the filly's head but he was a trembling mess. Harry could hear Louis' breath was laborious and raspy. 

"It's okay Louis, I'm here. Now when I tell you...you are going to let go of her head but hold on to her mane when she gets up. I'm going to tell Jazz to walk. He'll give her a lift, the rope I'm wrapping around your saddle horn is like a wench. But Louis I gotta tell you this is important to understand. I'm going to run it through the head stall so it will help keep her head up when Jazz moves. It's going to pull up and forward on the saddle that's gonna give her some assist. She's absolutely has got to get her legs free and go with the pull. For her to do this you gotta do two things to help her because she doesn't understand the danger."

Louis was shaking his head but Harry wasn't sure from the frightened death grip he had on the horse that Louis was capable of understanding anything he was saying anymore than the horse. 

"Louis. Look. When this rope pulls tight, you can't have anything between it and her. On my command I want you to move your hands to her mane on the top of her neck so that you're hands are no where near getting under the rope. It will pull so tight that it can cut off anything that gets pinched under it until we get her up to the trail and release the tension. We need that much tension to help Jazz pull her out of here."

Louis was shaking his head "yes" and just panting speechless with fear. 

"Okay. And Louis. When she starts to get her feet free you get your leg back over her so you're seated on the saddle again. Keep your legs where they'll help her the most. Just hold on to her mane like I told you. Keep hands away from the saddle and the rope until she's on a flat trail again."

Louis nodded more and looked into Harry's eyes with his fear being clearly only managed by the deep calmness to Harry's voice. Harry was glad Louis didn't notice that his hands were trembling too, almost as much as Louis'. He'd never been so frightened or seen anyone else so terrified. 

Harry looked up above them to Jazz. The horse was watching the scene on the hill below him and seemed to be waiting for a human command. Harry looked back at Louis with a nod to say "it's now" and he spoke to the three who were partners in the salvation. "Okay Louis, let pressure off of her head. JAZZ WALK, WALK JAZZ." 

Responsivley Jazz took his first step. Harry prayed two things wouldn't break with the weight going to the rope. The rope was fine and strong, that was not a concern of breaking. It was meant for holding cattle during vetting or branding. Harry's fear was that the earth under Jazz was soft from saturation. Harrry felt that when he jumped off his horse to do this rescue. His fear was that the earth would give out again with all the extra weight or that Jazz would loose his footing. Secondly, Harry was worried with the way he had to tread the rope through Sweetie's head stall. He needed the bridle leather to not break letting her head come free before she was pulled to safety. 

Harry knew that a horse can only go where it's head looks. Except for disciplined training for side passes, horses always go where their noses are pointed. So the rope needed to run through the bridle leather to keep Sweetie looking up to Jazz and up to the trail where she had to go. Whether riding a horse over a gigantic jump, or into a herd to catch that one cow among a hundred, the horse's focus made the work get done. Harry prayed the bridle didn't break and it kept the little, inexperienced mare who was packing Louis moving up to solid ground. 

Harry made a kissing-like go-sound to Sweetie that most horses learned meant go at a walk. The mare began to try to recover her feet. Harry held the rope with one hand out in front of where it passed thought her bridle and back to the saddle horn. He kept his other hand on the rope the end below where he'd made the wraps around the horn on Louis' saddle. He needed to hold the tail end of the rope to be ready to release the wraps when they got up to the trail. Also Harry needed the rope to help him climb back up the hill because of the slippery mud. Jazz was doing all the work to pull the three of them to saftey although Sweetie's legs were scrambling for a hold on the earth as soon as she came free of the shrub. 

Louis was clinging onto Sweetie's mane as instructed by Harry and they made a slow accent. Scrambling up, sliding, slipping, but ever so slowly making their way back to a solid trail. 

Jazz had his head down and made each step slow and controlled. Harry kept speaking to him, "walk, Jazz, walk, atta-boy, good boy...walk on Jazz.." Harry knew the horse took "atta-boy" as a praise. He heard all the ranch hands speak to their horses like that. 

*** 

Niall was standing there feeling like it was an eternity watching Zayn, who just moments before had been kissing him, now kissing Liam. They were both standing in a pool of water that formed from where their rain gear had shed the water and although it was difficult for hands to contact skin through all the layers it seemed that both were intent on doing so. One of them whined through the kiss, Niall wasn't certain who. It was one of those kinds of sounds like a needy expression of desire for more. 

Not to be forgotten again like earlier, Niall began taking pieces of their clothing off them where they stood as they continued this embracing and kissing. 

He pulled off their hats, he untied, neck scarfs. Then he pulled off the wet heaving outer rain coats. Both were wearing the duster style rain coat most cowboys wear. The oil treated long coats where great at shedding water. They hung to below the knee and had a keeper that fastens around the rider's leg so it took Niall a few minutes to pull these clothes off the two passion-immersed lads.

It was when Niall's fingers began fiddling for the buttons of shirts and jeans that the two finally broke from their kiss. Each held the other in a darkened stare, their hunger for more from the other evident. 

Niall was standing there in his boxers, a thing no one had made notice of when the two entered the cabin. He too had come inside soaking wet so when he got his fire going he'd stripped down to hang everything to dry as he waited out the storm. It was only now that Liam and Zayn noticed Niall was almost naked. 

They both looked at him. 

It was the kind of look that is a best described as drinking someone in. Eyes scamming from top of the head to feet and back up. Lingering and slow. 

Assessing.

The two new arrivals met each other's eyes briefly passing a smile that spoke words then both looked back at Niall again. 

So Niall felt himself going to his knees in response to the smoldering, lustful attention he'd captured. 

He rubbed a hand over each lad's jeans at the crotch and gazed up at each in turn.

Liam and Zayn both unfastened their pants, pulled them down enough to free their member and held themselves with a hand. Both had semis that looked to be getting livelier in the freedom.

Niall's hand met each of theirs to share in the hold. There was plenty of room for his. Not only was Liam worthy of the rumors but as Niall had already observed Zayn was no small order of business either.

As Niall took each lad's cock in hand they relinquished their hold on themselves and they took each other's face in hand and resumed kissing.

Niall kneeled there with uncertainty what exactly he should do. So he thought, "What would Louis do?"

Niall began to stroke each cock with intention and alternated occassional kitten licks which brought him the rewards and encouragement he needed. A hand from each Liam and Zayn fell to play with his hair, caress his face, brush him with affection. Their semis became full erections and they pressed themselves closer while keeping enough space that Niall could attempt to master both cocks in one hand. They praised him between muffled noises of their pleasure and Niall felt spurred on in increase his oral libations.

***

Harry was elated when he felt himself reach the trail and the ground under him was no longer a mud-slicked washed out. He was holding on to the rope but he was certain they were safely back on solid ground where he could free the two horses from the bound rope connecting them. He asked Jazz to "whoa" which was met instantly. 

"Good boy Jazz, stand boy, stand." Harry said as he began to move Sweetie closer up behind Jazz to create slack in the rope so he could release their connection. He was talking low and deep to the mare who was clearly exhausted and completely spent from her adventure. As he started to free the wrap from the horn on Sweetie's saddle he looked up at Louis who was still clenching the mare's mane with a death grip and stricken with fear. 

Louis normally looked like he was made of honey, golden and warm like sunshine emminated from within him. Now he was nothing like that. He was ashen white, maybe with a tinge of blue. What skin that was viable on his body looked thinned like paper and he was shaking. Harry wasn't sure, maybe Louis he was also sobbing. Harry's words to him were repeated soothing ones but he wasn't sure how Louis was not blacking out from the rapid shallowness of his breathing.

"Shhh, Louis, it's okay. You're okay now. Look, Sweetie is on the trail okay?" 

Harry had freed the rope from both saddle and bridle. He knew that the little mare was shaken to the core too. She clearly only wanted the comfort of Jazz whose flanks she had closed the gap between them to nuzzle her muzzle into for the gelding's assurance. Her body was caked in mud, Harry imagined her side opposite to him which had been into the hill was probably thick with it. He also thought of how Louis had a bare foot. Harry had one hand on Louis' leg which still had a shoe and under his touch he felt the muscles trembling. He looked down at the foot of that leg.

Louis in one shoe. A Van's tennis shoe of all things. It had no protection, no place in the world of equestrian activities least of all out for a jaunt in a storm. In fact nothing Louis was wearing was appropriate. A thin rain jacket over a light tee shirt and jeans. Not even a pair of socks inside his worthless shoes. Harry realized that hypothermia was highly likely. Louis' state fit all the signs. 

"Okay Louis, I'm going to go get back on Jazz. Well get you home to the ranch and you'll be fine, okay? " 

Harry took of his big cloak-like rain coat. He removed his scarf from around his neck. He began to put them on Louis and Louis started shaking more despite Harry's efforts. He was also trying to speak. His words can in breaks, between pants and Harry's fears deepened.

"W-w-wann, wan-n-off...wan-nof. Offfff...." Louis breathed out.

"No! No, I mean no Louis." Harry tried to contain his fear and soften his voice. He had to get Louis warm quick. Walking on foot was not quick. As bad as Sweetie had been because she was absolutley not the horse ridden where she was. Harry knew this because he knew she was young and new to the ranch. But she was still a horse. Horses can walk faster than a person at a jog. At a jog, faster than a running person can travel. And so on. Louis needed to ride her back.

"M' promising you Louis, we'll get you back." Harry snapped up the coat over Louis as best he could. He didn't have Louis slide his arms in the sleeves. It didn't matter. The coat was better used like making a tent for Louis' body. The tent-like cover was also keeping body heat coming off the mare underneath Louis trapped between them. Harry hoped it helped Louis small frame get some desperately needed warmth. 

Harry also removed his riding helmet. He was thinking about why would Zayn make the mistake of letting Louis get on a horse without any helmet, but then he knew their intention was never to go very far. Harry put his helmet on Louis and secured it. He continued to speak soft and calm. "It won't be far Louis. You stay on her. We'll get you home." Harry felt terrible breaking away from Louis to remount. He knew he had to.

As soon as he was on Jazz and had the end of the rope that was attached to his saddle free he began at a walk. He let Jazz go at the pace the smart, experienced gelding chose and he knew the horse understood the other two were in a bad way. They'd traveled not far when they came to a gate which Jazz turned to. 

Harry was surprised. It was not a gate they normally used because it was a gate between Bar 3 and the neighboring ranch. It had a sign facing the Bar 3 that said "no trespassing". Below it in faded hand painted words were, "violators will be shot". In the west that was not likely written as a joke as much as a statement of truth. 

The ranch to the east of Bar 3 was a small one that was occupied by an old man known to be extremely unfriendly and completley intolerant of neighbors. Old man Riley was known to have particular disdain for the youth who came to Bar 3. He seemed to hate young men. Especailly troubled young men.

Harry took his reins and started to turn the horse back to the trail to walk on.

"Come on boy. No short cuts."

Jazz shook his neck, tossed his head and turned back insistently into the neighbor's gate. 

Harry attempted to turn the horse again. 

More head tossing and a snort combined with a stomp of a front hoof announced that Jazz was saying firmly to Harry, "No! This is it."

Harry looked back at Louis and Sweetie. They were dreadful. Jazz was right. Harry turned back and looked beyond the gate to the ranch below. It was dark. He could smell the oder of wood smoke. Old man Riley was there. His cabin was warm from a fire in his fireplace. The darkness suggested he was probably sleeping.

From Harry's prior violations of trespass, like all the Bar 3 youth liked to do, Harry knew about the layout of the neighbor's ranch. Harry had been on more than a few raids to sneak onto the old man's land. The boys at the program like to steal from their neighbor's barn some of home brew that he made. It was their only chance to get alcohol. 

Harry thought maybe he could come up to the door of the cabin from the side which had no windows and maybe not be shot before they got close. And, maybe if he was really lucky, he could plead for help. 

"Jazz, are you telling me you want to take Sweetie to Mr. Riley's cozy barns?"

Fuckin-ey, the horse tossed it's head in an up and down manner as if to say, "yes, you stupid, fuck, that's what I've been saying!"

Harry side-stepped Jazz to the gate and unlatched it. He held it as Sweetie came throught behind him and he side-stepped Jazz back to close the gate. In the west, leaving open a gate found closed was an offense the same as stealing livestock. Hanging offense. And Harry was still worried about the rifle he knew the old man kept loaded at his front door. At least, Harry hoped, he wouldn't give cause to be shot over leaving a gate open.

Jazz took them to the front door and Harry dismounted. He too, felt extremely cold now too, having given up his outermost layers to Louis. He was just turning to tell Louis to stay on Sweetie while he went to see this neighbor when he saw Louis slip from Sweetie. 

Harry ran back and caught Louis as he fell. Louis was unconscious and unable to hear Harry's words.

"It's okay Louis, it's okay now, we'll get you warm..."

Harry was taking with a panic to his voice. He thought he heard something like talking in his head but then he realized it was a voice from behind him when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Harry looked over and there standing with a rifle in hand but held at the barrel with the butt on the ground was the old man. It was he that Harry heard.

"I said you better bring that boy inside now, come on."

Harry picked up Louis who felt light and lifeless. He followed the old man up the porch steps. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, apologies, but the smut will have to be with the next section. Caught with still editing typos here, it's been a long wait so wanted something posted without further delay.


	12. A mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While three take refuge in each other, Harry takes care of Louis at a neighbor's cabin. The neighbor sees the truth that about Harry that Harry is blind to. It's like looking in a mirror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, a side of threesome smut.

Picking up Louis, Harry followed the old man who hobbled up the steps and across his porch using his rifle like a cane the entire way. 

Harry was led into the cabin which was warm with slight illumination coming from one small lamp and the flames of a wood fire. On a large hand-hewn wood table in the center of a dining area a book was open beside the oil lamp as if someone had been reading. Beside the book a mug of tea was still givng off aroma of camomile. 

The old man rested his rifle in the corner beside the door with the barrel end still pointing straight up. He pulled huge stack of wool blankets from a wardrobe cupboard in the room and nodded to Harry as if to direct Harry to take Louis over to the couch. As soon as Harry set Louis down the man threw covers over Louis and quickly disappeared into another room.

From the other room where he was beyond Harry's view he called out instructions. In the background Harry heard the sound of water running as if the old man was busy with preparing a bath.

"Son, you best get that boy out of those wet clothes. Yourself too. This old tub is plenty big. You both need to seep in some warm water to get the cold out of your veins."

Harry realized his lower lip was shaking. Yes, he too was frozen to the core. He looked at Louis who hauntingly still, deathly pale and lips tinged unnaturally blue. Was he breathing? 

Harry knelt down to check and a few cold wet drops fell from his hair onto Louis' face. The feeling of deliverying such a insult to an already near-death Louis made Harry leap up and start stripping off his own clothes. Harry felt instantaneously warmer. He wrapped one of the blankets around himself and kneeled again to start liberating Louis from the soaked clothes as quickly as possible while trying to do so without pulling the blankets completely off of Louis in the process. 

Harry was struggling with Louis' tight pants that seemed shrunken in their drenched state when the old man came out from the bathroom giving Harry more instructions. 

"The water is nearly full in the tub. You get yourselves in there and I'll see to those two horses. That little one looks as bad as that boy so best to get in her dry in the barn with a pile of hay before she goes down on you."

The old man didn't hestiate. He acted like this uninvited inconvenience was routine. Taking his rifle again, he headed out the door leaving Harry and Louis as he went to care for their horses at an ungodly hour.

Harry had and a slightly easier time with removing Louis' t-shirt. Fear about how lifeless Louis appeared was abaited by carrying Louis to the bathroom because at least holding him, Harry could feel that Louis was breathing. 

The tub in the old man's bathroom was an ancient, free-standing clawfoot-type tub. The room it was in was quite large for a bathroom. The room seemed to double as a laundry room. It also had a small wood stove and the old man seemed to have stoked the fire in it while he had filled the tub so the room was warm as a sauna. 

Harry slid them both into the water and immediatly began to feel himself stop his shaking and become restored. It was still not apparent to Harry the exhaustion and stress he caused himself in the near tragedy. The strength it took for both he and Jazz to do the rescue had robbed him of all energy. 

Louis had been so lifeless that Harry was pressed think through what he knew about shock and hypothermia. He rested in the tub with his back to the wall and had Louis between his legs. Louis' back laid on Harry's chest. Harry was thinking through the important details of the steps to deal with the trauma when his own physical exhaustion overtook him and he drifted into sleep. 

A hand on his shoulder brought Harry out of his slumber. 

The old man wakened Harry, set some large, stove-warmed towels by the edge of the tub and slipped out of the room without a word. Harry realized the waking was necessary because the water was just on the edge of loosing it's warming benefit. He stood up leaving his lower legs in the water to support Louis as he dried his parts that were above the water where he stood. 

Harry stepped out of the tub and placed a warm towel down on the floor before he pulled Louis out. Laying Louis down on the towel as if Louis could break, Harry was grateful that the man had been so generous with the amount of towels he brought them. He used six of them to dry them both always making certain he kept Louis covered.

Harry brought a swaddled Louis out of the bath carrying him bridal style. He was met by the old man who was ahead of Harry's needs again. He had a pair of mugs in his hands that were giving off some steam. He nodded in the direction of the only other door in the three room cabin.

"You got a fresh, warm bed waiting for you in there. I'll carry these mugs in and you can decide if you want the one with the whiskey or the one that's just straight hot coco. But I think he doesn't need anything stronger than that storm you boys were out in. Maybe after a good night's sleep you can tell me which one of you young idiots had the idea to go for a ride in that storm and why. But off to bed with you. Oh, and there are some clothes in there if you want something on other than your skin."

Harry realized he hadn't said even a word to their benefactor. He knew he'd been talking to Louis, while the old man got their bath ready, while they were in the bath as he dried Louis, but he had never heard a peep out of Louis nor had he bothered to say thank you and introduce himself to their host.

"Um, thank you. I'm Harry, by the way. We're from Bar 3..."

"I know where you're from. You, I've seen before. You've been in my barn a time or two. I'm Will. Like I said you can tell me how you got yourselves in such a mess tomorrow, but that friend of yours needs a warm bed and some sleep. If you can get him to drink a little of this hot chocolate the sugar in it might give him a lift. But it might be best to let him sleep.

"Speaking of sleep, what about you? Where are you going to sleep?" Harry asked looking around. It appeared the large cabin was just the three rooms.

"I'm okay son. I'll be fine on the couch. You just get your, friend there into bed. The bed is plenty big enough for you both."

Will seemed to want no further discussion. He headed to the bedroom with the two mugs. Setting them on the night stand beside the bed he picked up some things he was clearly going to use to make himself a bed on the couch. Harry hoped the couch wasn't wet from having put a drenched Louis on it earlier, but their host seemed gracious and unconcerned. 

Harry said thank you again as he laid Louis on the bed. Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw the old man watching him tenderly place Louis on the large bed. The old man left the room giving Harry one last bidding of goodnight. 

Harry looked at the clothes and thought about dressing Louis. But then looking at Louis' swaddled form Harry couldn't resist the intrigue of laying together naked, skin to skin. Harry slipped them both under the warm down comforters and pressed himself into Louis leaving the towel on the floor beside the bed. 

Harry always considered himself more of "a little spoon" by nature but it was so nice to hold Louis' small body tight into his. Louis was in a deep, exhaustion-induced slumber. He had the softest, most pristine skin Harry had ever felt as Harry arms wrapped around Louis to feel more of him. As soft as Louis was, he was also firm. His arms and legs were all muscle. Harry's pelvis pressed him more firmly into Louis' bum. It felt full and luscious, completely unlike anything Harry could have dreamt was ever possible for a boy's body 

Harry realized his normal behavior, the thing that brought him to Bar 3, would be to take this body, so perfect. His standard routine would be do something like fuck Louis while he was defenseless and manipulate him afterward with threats to reveal it. Scorch Louis' reputation. Use it to make Louis give himself to Harry on demand. 

Harry rolled them apart such that he could study Louis' face. Yes, Louis was flat out with exhaustion. His pretty mouth with lips parted were like that of a person waiting for a kiss. Harry wanted to kiss those lips. Explore Louis with his tongue. Tasting Louis and making him pant for more then roll him over and see if he could make Louis beg with the tongue that once explored Louis' mouth driving into Louis' hole as he ate him out.

That's the thing Harry would normally do. 

But this was somehow not what Harry let himself fall into. Not like all the times with other people in his past. Instead he reached over Louis and took the mug considering his situation. He sipped some of the coco-whiskey drink and studied Louis more. He watched Louis breathing soundly in his sleep. Harry studied Louis' face. He became amazed at the impossibility of counting eyelashes because on Louis' lid they were inconceivably thick. 

Next he studied the arch of Louis' eyebrows and was enchanted with their playful curve that suggested Louis was from a lineage of pixies because the arch of Louis' browl bore no other explanation.

Setting down his mug, Harry wondered why Louis had such a perky nose. He was just about to admire the bonestructure of Louis' face in every exquiste detail when he was lost to his own exhaustion drifting off to sleep.

*** 

Niall wasn't sure how this happened. 

He was nervous. This wasn't Louis and Zayn anymore. Besides, Louis willing to be used. Be anything to get off or get his partners off. But this, this was two alphas. 

Two dominants. 

Two tops. 

Niall tried not to get distracted with his nerves, his newness to the way things worked. He tried to avoid being lost in semantics of labels and roles. The idea Zayn tried explaining to him after their threesome with Louis; the idea that dominant doesn't always mean top yet Niall was confused. Not so sure how this was going to work. He recalled a conversation from days before with Zayn. 

"Bottoms can be very dominant" Zayn had said to him. Using the emphasis on the word dominant. "Take Louis, for example. He's a demanding, confident, bottom. He wants what he wants and being the one getting fucked doesn't make him the one whose not in control. He's v e r y dominant."

Okay. Niall thought. But things weren't going anywhere with Liam and Zayn. 

Okay. But they were. 

But no. They weren't. 

The two of them had been engrossed in a mutual grop-fest, kissing and touching. Grabbing. Twisting. But neither was conceding. They were so attracted to each other and yet so NOT going anywhere. 

So once again like when he went to his knees at their feet he thought "what would Louis do?"

That is how Niall found himself crouched over Liam who was laying flat on his back. Niall had Liam's massive dick held in his two stacked hands. There was still at least another third of Liam's dick extending beyond the top hand of the two fisted hold. Niall was sucking this part as he squeezed and stroked the lower length of dick with both hands.

His focus on this blow job was admittedly a distracted effort at best.

Afterall, Zayn was deep in his arse fucking him.

It was a teasing fuck. 

The conversation between Zayn and Liam was about Niall. Loving, but teasingly insulting. 

Anytime Zayn liked what he or Liam said he slapped Niall on the ass to emphasize the point. Oddly, it made Niall more turned on. 

Why did he like that so much? He didn't know. It just made him mew and suck Liam harder.

The sensations of caresses from Liam, teasing praises about his "near virginal" clumsiness, the thrusting of Zayn keeping a tortuously extended pace was beginning to feel too intense. Too good. 

Niall heard Liam exclaim about the jizz that hit him as he felt himself release in a wave of heat and tingling. Zayn stopped suddenly and pulled out of Niall before he'd been fucked fully through the orgasm. Niall realized Zayn was ripping off a condom and spilling himself on Naill's back. Zayn was clearly unable to keep himslef held off while inside Niall. 

As Niall's ears cleared from a fleeting sensation of hearing loss coinciding with his orgasm he heard Liam. 

"Thanks for prepping him for me Zayn. Now move aside and let me show you how it's properly done." 

Niall yelped at the excitment of his dreams coming true. Liam was going to do things to him! 

*** 

Harry woke to the feeling of his hair tickling his cheek. He moved sleepily to stop the annoyance but discovered that he was restricted. As his mind began to wake Harry realized the breath blowing his hair across his face was not his own breath. There were limes too; an arm and a leg, not his own, pinning him down.

Was he wrapped by a koala?

Or no, it was a Louis. 

Harry woke fully in an instant when he was struck by the idea of Louis wrapping him like he was the little spoon. He stopped his shifting and became perfectly still because, yes, now everything that happened came flooding back into his mind. 

Last night Louis was near death. 

Cautiously Harry made a very gentle effort to slip himself from under Louis as to not wake him. Once he pulled away he wanted to assess the unknown damage.

Harry was thrilled to see the slumbering lad was no longer deathly-pale. Indeed, his radiant honey-glow was restored. A peak under the covers and Harry saw that Louis looked to have all parts still attached though there were a few large bruises on one side of Louis' body. It was likely from when he and Sweetie slid down the hill as the earth gave out. 

It took restraint. Harry's immediate desire was to slip under the covers and kiss the sore spots. As he examined Louis' naked body it aroused him further. The bruises gave him the idea that maybe he should suck a few marks of his own into special places of this beautiful figure. Maybe leave marks in places like the divots of the hip bone or the inside of a thigh. 

Curious for more sensations than what he could gather with his eyes alone, Harry leaned in closer to Louis, breathed in the scent. It was "Louis" mixed with something like lavender, maybe, probably from their bath, and Harry felt himself aroused again. 

This is where the normal thing for Harry to do was to take. Take and use. Demoralize a little. Embarrass and dominate. 

Harry had done that so many times, with so many others. Like with Nick. Like recently how he was using and terrorizing Liam. Sure Liam "wanted it". But he never "wanted it" like Harry imposed it. That was Harry being cruel and taking advantage of Liam's conflicted emotions, uncertainty and lack of confidence. But this Louis. He wasn't like the types Harry toiled with. 

Louis was unabashedly certain of himself. It came across loud and clear when they walked back from the meadow that day when Kyla sent Harry to get Louis and Snowball. Louis had flirted with Harry. Smiled at Harry and stared into Harry's eyes like to say they should do something, whatever, whenever. Louis left the door open and all Harry had to do was take one step forward and he could have Louis. It was clear to Harry that in Louis' view his sexuality was his to choose to give, not his nemesis to fight or deny. 

Suddenly Harry felt the panic effect and his chest tightened. 

He jumped up from the bed and fell backward as soon as his feet touched the ground. Grabbing a pair of sweat pants that Will had left in a stack of clothes for them. Harry threw on sweats along with a tee shirt and left the room. How was Louis doing this to him even in his sleep?

***

Harry stepped from the bedroom which had been dark from the pulled shades to discover the main room of the cabin that served as living area, dining and kitchen was bright with sunshine. It was also filled with the aroma of coffee and cinnamon. Sitting at the corner reading and sipping coffee was the old man. 

His face lit up with a smile when he saw Harry and he immediately started to rise. It was then Harry saw he used a cane. It was the first time Harry considered that the old man had been walking with the rifle as a cane the night before. Maybe carrying rifle was an action forced upon him by the appearence of young holligans trespassing. 

"Well I lost my bet with myself, thought for certain I wouldn't see either one of you up before noon. You beat that by twenty minutes, young Harold."

Harry laughed at the transformation of his name. "M'grateful for the warm shelter and comfortable bed. Don't know how to thank you enough actually." 

Will headed to his kitchen and Harry saw he'd made some sort of cinnamon rolls that were sitting in the center of the large dining table. Outside Harry could hear birds were singing. Everything about last night seemed so far away because it was a new day. Sunny and the cabin felt cozy like home.

"A word of thanks is enough. I'm putting on some water for tea, guessing you boys are the tea drinking types. Help yourself to some rolls and tell me what you were doing out there, you and your one-shoe friend, while I make you some breakfast. Mine was about six hours ago, so I'll be calling this lunch. You up for eating? You and your friend?"

Harry scratched his head and turned to look at row of pictures that were along the mantle of the fireplace. "He's still soundly sleeping but I'm ravenous, thanks."

Will began to pull out pans and supplies. "So tell me young Harold. Why ride on a mountain in a storm with a one-shoe companion whose got a very young, skiddish horse?"

"Oh the horses!" Harry exclaimed. He suddenly realized he'd given no thought to them. 

"Now Harry," Will said in a tone that was reassuring, "those horses are fine. I fed them good hay last night. Today they're enjoying grazing in my pasture along side my old horse. Everything is fine with them today. Do think that filly has a few nasty cuts you'll want to look after when you get back to Bar 3. I put some betadine on them, but she needs a good bath and some wound dressing."

Harry profusely thanked Will again and moved around the room examining more pictures as he ate several rolls and began the explanation. 

There were lots of photographs of Will with other people through the years on the fireplace mantle and the various bookshelves. Harry could pick Will out with ease. Will had an infectious smile and dimples. He was also the tallest in most of the photos. Some pictures showed him in later years. Some were from his youth when he was about Harry's age. From the look of some photos there were images of Will with his buddies taken during the war.

Scattered here and there among the pictures were some personal items like old people tend to collect although they were few in number given that his home decor was simple and uncluttered. Occasionally though as Harry studied the room he noticed there were things like a needlepoint stitched linen framed blessing. It read "Blessed home of Will and Francie". 

The tailor-made blessing caught Harry's attention as he explained their adventure. He told Will it all began with a search for a missing friend, unintended inclusion of two other friends, the four split, Harry's decision to take the east trail on the steep slope. So Harry retold the events as Will listened and prepared a huge breakfast for Harry. 

Harry talked on. He examined Will's life in memorabilia. At the sight of the two names reappearing again, "Will and Francie" Harry was stuck by the irony of the name Francie. He looked back where he'd been touring through memory lane of Will's life and he realized he kept seeing variations of the name "Francie". 

Francie, Francis, Frank. 

Looking back at one photo from the war Harry searched details. Will was standing holding rifle leaning on a jeep. At his side with an arm drapped over Will's shoulders very cozily was another solider. The other man was about Will's age, smaller and something about him seemed best described as "mischievous". 

It was an old photo. Faded. Not the best detail. But yes, the other boy, boy because the two were barely men, looked very mischievous. Something struck Harry as so. As Harry studied that photo and looked back through the images and the items with the names on them he began to get a feeling. Will and Francie. Will and Francis. "Will and Frank" it was labeled in faded handwriting on the bottom of one photo just above where the frame held the picture. So faded was the writing that Harry was bent over squinting to read the words. 

Harry stood up and turned when he realized that Will was right behind him like he'd snuck up on Harry twice before. There looking over Harry's shoulder was Will holding a cup of tea. 

Will said to Harry asking in continuation of their conversation where Harry had abandoned his story as he drifted into thinking about Will's private history, "You see Harry, that trail has been ready to wash out for years now. It was only going to take one more big storm. You both are lucky to be alive."

He handed Harry the cup and looked at the thing that had been holding Harry's fascination. 

It was a picture of Will and the same boy who had his arm around Will in the war photo. The photo was most likely from after the war. The picture looked like it was probably taken someplace in the mountains around the area. It was labeled "Will and Frank". 

Will pointed at the picture of him and Fran-who-ever. 

"That's my favorite. That picture there. It was a good day. We'd been up to the lake at the top of the mountain. Swimming and fishing. Francie kept jumping off this big boulder doing flips and showin' off. I was so mad. I was sure a cracked skull was minutes away. Then Francie pretended to hit bottom and hid from me behind that big rock you see there. I was in such a panic. Such a little fucker, that one. But after I settled down we messed around and laid there together in the sun, naked on the beach, alone at the lake. When you experience something so beautiful with the one you love. Only the sky over head and your love, then you feel the love of God."

Harry's eyes met Will's which had tears in them. For the first time Harry noticed that Will also had green eyes like him. It was like looking into a mirror and seeing yourself decades in the future. Green eyes, dimples, tall and lanky. 

Will turned away wanting to switch off the subject that caused him bittersweet tears. "So tell me young, prince Harold. Does the one with the cheekbones know you are in love with him?"


	13. No control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Louis recovers at Will's cabin, Harry tries to deny his feelings but then his protective nature is triggered and it undermines his emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note that the "cuts" at the end of the chapter do not involve cutting in any way thus the story is not tagged with that warning, only this informal heads up about reference to that in the content to be safe.

"What do you mean? I'm not in love with him!" Harry blurted out defensively. 

He took the tea from Will's hand and sipped it immediatley. He then struggled to hide the pain because the tea he'd hastily drank was still much too hot. 

The truth. 

It burned Harry more than the tea because as Will said those words it forced Harry to confront his feelings. Nothing burned more than that truth. 

Wanting to play aloof, Harry was happy to have someplace to divert his eyes. He attempted to read the non-existent tea leaves and tried not to let Will see his eyes. Just as Will had become teary over his fond memories about his Francie now it was Harry whose eyes were watering. 

Hoping Will would think his eyes clouded from scalding tea, Harry wanted to hide his emotions. For the first time he was confronting an insurmountable fear. A fear of loving. Anything was better than letting the wise old man see the way the suggestion made him become. Harry couldn't be in love. He couldn't be vulnerable. 

"I mean. We just met. He and I, we, um, we, we only just met. A little more than a week ago. I'm not in love him!"

Will nodded at Harry. His expression overtly said "bullshit".

Needing to convince Will and himself Harry blurted more of a defense. "He's not my type. I mean, I'm not into..." 

Harry speech was interupted as he struggled to think of anything about Louis that wasn't perfect to finish his defense of himself with.

Will stepped away. Harry's anxiety was obvious. He to began filling a plate with food for Harry. As Will served up Harry's meal he took Harry's pause as a chance to supply the missing words he knew Harry's brain couldn't render. 

"Pretty boys with perfect cheekbones? You were going to say that you're not into pretty boys with perfect cheekbones." Will set the plate down and finished with a passive reconciliation. "Alright then." 

Harry couldn't think of a quip to come back with. The perfect cheekbones... 

It wasn't just the cheekbones. It was the lips. The jawline. Maybe his favorite thing about Louis above all else was his eyelashes. Those lashes were so thick and alluring that they enchanted a butterfly. Who could resist those? And then there was Louis' body. Why did the gods make it so curvy and so not; so seductively shapely while still so boyish? It made Harry feel like he needed to spend his life trying to fill it with a love child? Mpreg wasn't even humanly possible but why did Louis' body scream "breed me" inside Harry's head, why? 

Harry attacked his plate devouring the food ravenously like a man both starved and frustrated. 

Indeed Harry was both. He was supposed to be the one to have the control and make the others feel starved for him. Frustrated and unable to restrain their desire for Harry, sex was his weapon. Everyone wanted him. Women, men, e v e r y o n e. 

It was not that he was vain, but Harry knew that he was beautiful. His lips were erotic perfection people would say as they became weak for him. His body was like something to drink in with desperation. Thirst for it. That's what the people Harry played felt. And so why was there no control of his domination when it came to Louis? Why were Harry's emotions so transparent to this old man who was a stranger? 

"Okay then." Will said. Sensing Harry's conflict. Wise enough to have no need to pry Will changed the subject. 

"I called over to the ranch to tell them that two of their deliquents were here. They wanted to come over and collect you immediately but I said that you had to work off your trespass for me before you could face their discipline. I'm sure that when the one with the cheekbones wakes you'll want to get out of here, back to the Bar 3 post haste. Must have been mighty uncomfortable sharing a bed with someone you...just met." 

Harry didn't like the reverse logic. And yet what could he say. He detected a tiny smile of surpressed amusement underlying Will's reuse of Harry's own words. 

Harry continued to eat ravenously and tried to think of anything other than who was lying in the bed in the next room. Any thinking about Louis had the effect of making Harry's chest tighten, the room spin, his appetite for food abait. 

When Harry felt his stomach tighten to the point that he couldn't swallow another bite from the upset his nerves reeked on his digestion he pushed his plate aside and moved away from the table. His knees felt weak. Sitting down in a big chair in the corner of the living room area Harry put his head between those knees hiding his face in his hands. 

"It's okay son. I know it's not easy." Will said. 

After that Will stood up and took his cane announcing he was leaving Harry in peace. He was going to check on his brews in the barn. And their horses. 

Once Will left Harry felt his nerves go into overdrive instead of a greater calm. He tried to spin off his nervous energy by cleaning up from the cooking. Harry put a plate of food together to take to Louis but when he got to the door of the bedroom Harry simply couldn't bring himself to turn the knob to open the door because he felt so nauseated. 

Three more times Harry tried to go to the door over the course of an hour as the plate of food became completely cold. Three more times he had to turn away. He kept thinking of the way Louis had smiled at him on the occasions before; their walk back from the meadow leading Snowball, the morning with the honey-spill that Louis licked off while smiling into Harry's eyes. They were memories that gripped Harry's body in an unfamiliar paralysis of insecurity. 

So Harry decided to leave Louis sleeping and to go look for Will. The old man's incitefulness was both haunting and comforting. 

He found Will to be busy with his brew making. Will gave Harry a tour, describing what each batch in process was going to be, he talked of some of the chemistry of the process for making wine, beer or whiskey. At one point it became very apparent that Harry was asking questions beyond faked interest or politeness. Harry was doing anything to keep his mind busy and distracted. Eventually Will had to ask. 

"Harry, your company is appreciated, but do you think you can at least tell me why you are so afraid of love? Unless you want me to go through the entire history of alcohol concoctions of all human civilizations. I'm happy to do that. But wouldn't you rather go back over there and see if that boy you're so afraid of is awake?" 

*** 

Harry took the suggestion returning to the cabin. He stepped inside intending to go straight into the bedroom and wake Louis. He entered. Took a deep bepreath. Was standing inside the front door and gathering his nerve when Harry heard a noise and looked off to the side to the kitchen area. There stood Louis. 

Louis, like Harry, was wearing a pair of Will's borrowed sweatpants, but unlike Harry his were rolled up several times to take up some of the length. The borrowed clothes were suited to a taller person like Harry, afterall. 

Also swamping Louis was a shirt which had sleeves coming all the way over Louis' hands leaving only his finger tips exposed. In simplest terms he looked adorable in the oversized clothes. Harry's heart screamed in his chest at the cuteness of it. 

Louis held a cup of tea in his hands and looked sleepy as he asked Harry in a raspy sounding voice, "Where are we?" 

Harry went over to Louis and looked down at him. Sleepy, tiny looking Louis. He had eyebags showing his state was still far from refreshed. "We're at the neighboring ranch. This is William Riley's place. We slept here last night after the wash out on the trail." 

Louis nodded. He tugged at the clothes he was wearing. "These are his?" 

"Yep." 

"Where is he?" 

"Barn. Making beer, wine, some kind of whiskey. I tried it. It's good." 

Louis laughed. His laugh sounded like his speaking voice, or maybe a little raspier than normal. He rubbed his eyes and yawned. "M'tired. Tired and sore." 

Louis made the statement then turned to go to the couch to sit with his tea. As he turned to walk away he scratched his back which raised the shirt up momentarily. This revealed briefly how the too large pants were just barely holding up because of the glorious swell of Louis' bum. The tops of each bum cheek and the separating crack were revealed in the quick peek. It was absurdly seductive. 

Harry's throat constricted. 

Sitting down, Louis positioned himself in a tucked up ball. His appearance with the shift went from seductive to adorable in one second. Louis patted the seat next to him to suggest Harry to come join him as he yawned again with more sleepy cuteness and eye rubbing. 

"Fuck me" Harry thought. "This is dangerous." 

Harry approached Louis like he was a dangerous panther despite that, in reality, Louis looked as harmless as a domestic kitten. He sat next to Louis who immediatley tucked himself into Harry to get the extra warmth of Harry's body. Louis pulled his feet up to the seat cushion of the couch and slid toes under Harry's thigh that was on his side of Harry's body. He slid one arm around Harry's back between body and couch. He slid his other arm over Harry's stomach. As a final act making what was two become one Louis dropped his head to Harry's shoulder becoming a fixture to Harry's body. Baby Koala. 

Harry felt his breath seize and his mind went fuzzy at the tenderness of this cuddle. Internally Harry was rigid with something that was a lot like the emotion of fear.

It was then that Will came back into his house. A few steps into the room he saw the two seated with Louis plastered to Harry and he smiled with a slight smirk directed at Harry and greeted Louis.

"Well look who's finally back from the dead. Louis is it, right? Has our young Harold here offered to get you anything to eat yet? After your adventure I'm sure that your body needs some calories in the worst sort of way."

Will was moving over to the kitchen area to begin getting Louis something to eat when Harry jumped away from Louis like where they were seated was given an electric shock. Harry blurted over Louis' response of appreciation to Will that he would take care of making Louis something to eat. Will smirked at Harry again as Harry took over in the kitchen. Harry knew Will was completely amused by the the pathetic denial, the humor of Harry's puppy-love jitters.

So as Harry began to make himself at home cooking, Louis and Will got acquainted. It wasn't long before they were laughing with each other. To make Louis feel better about his mishap, Will was telling Louis various stories of worse ways people had been caught out in the mountains unprepared and their stupid misfortunes. Next the conversation drifted to things about Louis' family. Will seemed to be asking questions like maybe Harry would want to know if he didn't have this brain-locked, nerve-override nausea thing going on. 

By the time Louis finished eating, which Harry thought was oddly the most attractive thing he'd ever watched, it was clear that Louis and Will hit it off just as well as Harry and Will had. The day was waning into early evening and Will made the offer for them to stay another night. Both Harry and Will noticed that Louis was looking increasingly tired in the brief time he'd been awake. Louis fused with the oversized clothes like his body was sore, painful and exhausted.

The conversations made Louis very comfortable with their host. Not long after he finished the meal that Harry made Louis was back to the couch, yawning, rubbing his eyes, putting himself in a tight little ball. The offer of the bed for another night, and an offer to make excuses to the Bar 3, was accepted by Louis. Harry couldn't interject any discomfort over another night's stay because Louis finished his point with a statement about his fear.

"...and I'm not looking forward to getting back on that horse to ride back from here to be honest." Louis said admitting his concern while rubbing places that Harry knew were bruised under the baggy clothing. 

It was settled. They would stay again. Harry couldn't interject any discomfort with the plan. Louis was oblivious to Harry's state of mind and Will was having a laugh over it. 

With Louis going to bed early, this left Will and Harry with more time to talk alone. The more Harry made every excuse to learn everything he could about Will's experiences, at the ranch, in the war, back to more history of alcohol, for example, the more Will made sarcasm-filled comments meant to tease Harry about his hidden infatuation and persistent denial of it. 

Eventually Will became tired of Harry's excuses to avoid going to bed. Will insisted they turn in with Louis having been in the bedroom asleep for several hours.

*** 

No recourse but to sleep with Louis agsin, Harry slipped off his clothes and slid under the covers not wanting to wake Louis but nevertheless needing to emerse himself in another study of everything that was in his eyes Louis-perfection. Maybe he could desensitize himself, Harry thought. Take away Louis' effect on him. 

The eyelashes, the bone structure, the lips, the skin. He was making his list of things that were perfect when Louis shifted. A hand moved into view slipping out from under the comforter. Harry bolted up and took Louis' hand thus waking Louis with the contact. 

Holding onto Louis' hand Harry asked with concern, "Louis what is this from? How did this happen?"

It was the marks from the rope that the Australians had tied Louis with that caught Harry's eye. The bruises Harry had seen onLouis earlier were obvious in origin; from the fall down the hill. All of them were on the one side of his body, it was clear why. But these bruises that Harry just noticed and the small cross-wrist cuts into Louis' were inexplicable as a part of the accident on the trail. Harry reached under covers to find and pull out Louis' other hand too. He inspected the other wrist only to find it was similarly bruised and cut into.

"Seriously Louis, what are these from?"

Louis turned his smaller hands over within the hold of Harry's bigger ones to change their contact so he became was the one holding Harry's hands. His thumbs rubbed soothingly over the back of Harry's hands as he answered in a sleepy, reassuring tone. 

"It's okay Harry, it's nothing."

Harry looked a little disbelieving. He shook his head "no". "No Louis, tell me you aren't cutting or something. Explain to me how these cuts and bruising happened then..."

Louis hushed Harry and with sleepy nonchalance explained. "It's nothing like that. M'not the hurt me self kind, Curly. No this is just pranking stuff. Got tied up and left for a bit by some of the other lads is all..."

"WHAT?"


	14. Sixteen meets eighteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This short chapter reveals some of Harry's past. What made Harry the way he was when he meets Louis.

When Harry was fourteen he fell in love. 

Sure he'd had "girlfriends". His mum's story of Harry's life that she displayed in photos on her refrigerator showed all the highlights. It included so many beautiful girls looking cozy with Harry. His first "girlfriend" was when he was eleven.

So when Harry, at fourteen, started spending extra time after school with a 27-year old teacher the relationship was seen as completely normal, a devoted school coach and a favorite student. This seemingly professional relationship was reinforced by how exicted Harry always was to do anything with the coach even spending an entire weekend together as they did frequently. With the transitions in their family Anne assumed the coach filled a somewhat fatherly role for Harry. Anne embraced this. 

At fifteen Harry came home on the last day of school before summer break in an unconsolable state. After he tired from hours of sobbing he told his family that his teacher, the coach, had announced he was taking a job the following year at a new school. He was moving the next day. Harry would never see him ever again. 

Harry's devastation over the loss was normal, Anne belived; Harry was simply missing the special fatherly relationship with his coach. With the teacher gone Harry began spending his time alone a lot, sleeping most of his days away, only occasionally going out and usually with groups of lads his age that were people his parents didn't know. 

Harry's mum didn't notice the profound changes that started in Harry that summer because of his tendancy to sleep most of the day. The family never knew the reputation that Harry was developing among long-time friends. Former schoolmates didn't come around anymore but the family assumed it was because he always "clicked" better with adults. When school started up again Harry was a completely different person than his classmates knew from the year before. Emotional. Volital. Slightly cruel. And promiscuous. 

Another obvious change in Harry was a physical one. Harry had also grown two more inches and filled out over the summer of his fifteenth year becoming a man among most classmates. At school he began getting his kicks by bullying. Around his family Harry had stayed in character as the loving, sweet boy his family thought they knew. He got good grades. He showed up at the polo matches and fox hunts with his charm up front always making Anne's society friends blush with his wit and the beauty of his infectious smile. It seemed all was fine with Harry. 

By mid school year Anne was completey shocked when she learned what Harry was caught doing with a grown man at his stepfather's work. Harry had gone into London to see his father who wanted to take him out to shop for a very nice present for his birthday which was approaching soon after the Christmas break. Until that day Anne believed Harry was still a normal teen, and a virgin. Her husband, discovering Harry having raw sex at the office of his company with his immediate subordinate, gave the overt sexual infraction zero tolerance. No latitude. Even though the boldness of the act, was as if Harry wanted to be caught quite literally with his pants down. 

Anne asked the school to help her make a case to Des for how Harry was misunderstood. Anne believed something about the closeness of Harry with the former coach was behind an unreasonable resentment she felt Des had for Harry, her angel. She hoped the people at the school could use Harry's good behavior to make an aurguement for her son to his step father. Des was furious and wanted to send Harry off to some program for trouble boys in the United States. 

Instead of support for Harry, Anne was surprised to find the school had a huge list of their own concerning misbehaviors documented in Harry's recent tenure; deviant, destructive, bullying behaviors perpetrated by Harry on other students. The school counselors were even seeking advice from outside sources because of how unreachable Harry was. Apparently Harry had been using his mother's trust and knowledge of her passwords to eliminate electronic messages they had been sending her. Harry had also intercepted her mail. Deleted phone calls. Only Harry's step father had gotten their notifications. Cubeb-faced Harry was no angel. 

Harry had been successfully hiding from Anne his behavioral problems. Through multiple counseling sessions at his school he rejected the opportunities to explain himself. The school embraced the plan to send Harry to a treatment program that his father suggested because they had no explanation of what they were dealing with in Harry. 

So it was that Harry arrived at Bar 3 with an established, protectionist behavior in place to keep his pain locked inside. For a year he resisted help as he'd done for months at his school back home. 

The relationship of teacher, age 27 with son, age 14 was never the healthy experience Anne had believed. Harry hadn't revealed anything to Anne or anyone else. No one understood. When the adult-child sexual relationship ended Harry was too embarrased, too full of pain to reveal the true nature of their relationship to anyone. His heart had been broken. He felt like his body had been used. 

The words the teacher said on their last meeting were in Harry's head constantly. 

"What Harry? You crying? Did you really believe you can fall in love as a mere child and that love will last forever? Grow up Harry. That's a childish fantasy. I'm a grown man Harry. What do you give me other than a body I can use? If I want a child to take care of I will marry a woman." 

His lover abandoned Harry, scorned his heart break and agony over it. Harry believed that feeling would be with him forever. Harry was never going to love again. His prospects for love, at and age when teens fall in love on a weekly routine, was gone. The words "a body I can use" replayed its destructive loop again and again in his head. 

Just a body to use. 

Harry's body became his weapon. He treated those he was intimate with like they were pawns and pushed all chance of love away. 

Then sixteen met eighteen.


	15. Little Spoon

Persistent efforts by Harry to get more information from Louis about this "tieing up" was impossible. 

Louis wasn't caving to Harry's demands to know who did this to him leaving his wrists' cut and bruised. All Harry learned from Louis was that a band had cornered him. They tied him and left him alone. That is what caused the marks on his wrists. It was also what delayed him being on time for the relay race. Only Zayn having searched and found him prevented Louis from missing the race altogether.

Harry tried sounding forceful with demands to know which gang of boys did this. Louis laughed off this machismo approach to extracting information. Louis cooed at Harry's "need to defend", calling Harry "an adorable kitten" and treating Harry like a babe. Louis put a delicate set of fingers over Harry's lips to hush the demands and still Louis refused to name names. 

Soften by the gentleness of Louis' touch Harry next tried the pleading approach. 

Louis hushed away Harry's concerns. He softly plied Harry's emotions into placid speechlessness, and again withheld revealing details. He claimed that the entire thing was "harmless play". Then Louis simply pulled himself tight into Harry and said "M'so tired Curly. Sleep now." 

And he fell asleep.

Harry woke the next morning and found himself again entangled. Louis had arms and legs ensnaring them as one. Harry was the little spoon. 

For a few minutes Harry laid awake in bed thinking about the struggle to discover who left the marks on Louis' wrists. It concerned Harry more than the trail accident. Someone had been carelessly, deliberately physical with Louis. And for the first time Harry wasn't feeling the room spinning, chest tightening, nausea over thoughts of Louis. He was feeling ...concerned, protective. 

Also for the first time since Louis vexed him Harry could breath normally. Harry could swallow without his throat constricting. He rolled over pulling back enough away to make a good study of Louis. 

Harry realized that he could enjoy this. Waking like this. Breathing air freely. Studying morning sunshine asleep on the bed next to him. 

Harry began to ponder how nice it felt to have awakened from a sleep that comes with comfort and security. Something he hadn't felt for a long time. He was thinking of that when he heard the sound of a phone ringing in the other room. Will answered. The conversation was muffled by the thick log cabin walls, but it seemed that it was Bar 3 calling Will about collecting he and Louis. 

Harry looked at Louis sleeping one last time and slipped out of bed. As he rose his movements uncovered Louis' body. The sleeping form of his bedmate was sinful. Smooth, curved, golden, firm. Luscious. 

Will had washed both their clothes the previous day and they were sitting in the room neatly folded and ready. Dressing, Harry went into the main room of the cabin and Will was once again sitting in the corner on a favorite reading chair book in hand sipping his coffee. Harry assumed he'd been up as the day before for hours. Horses fed. His solitary life a daily schedule that never changed much. Harry realized the old man had such chill.

"Goodmorning" Harry said adding that he hoped Will had slept okay on the couch...for a second night. The bedding Will used was neatly folded. Will expressed it was a perfectly fine night's rest for him. 

Will asked Harry, "Breakfast?"

As breakfast was being made Harry again drifted through the photos of Will's life. It was so clear to Harry. Will and Francie had been lovers their entire life. And now Will was alone. But he seemed to live like a person who had no regrets. Harry studied Frank, Francie, in the pictures. He had a mischievous smile. He was pretty. 

"Will, if you don't mind me asking. How old were you, you and Fran... Francie when you um, um, realized you were..."

"In love? In love Harry?" 

"16 and 18. He was older."

Harry looked at the two in the picture. 

The war time photo showed Francie had casually laid his arm over Will's shoulder. It was clear how they were; there was just something about them. Even in faded picture it was obvious that Will had something that drew people to him. An ease, an openness, a grace to him. One could also sense that Francie was the one who would drag anyone who dared to hurt his boy. You could s e e it. Will was big, calm, methodical, charming. Francie was small, energetic, fierce. 

"How old was he, he, um, Francie when he died?" Harry asked. 

Will came to stand next to Harry and looked at the collection of framed pictures that had Harry's interest. 

"Old? How old?" 

"Harold some people never grow old. Buts it's been years now since he's been gone. It was not long after Bar 3 took in that youth program. But he died as he lived life. Having a bit of fun. Being a bit mischievious."

Will turned away. He set down a plate for Harry and added, "You might want to look after that one in there, he's cut from the same cloth, I can tell. Even their eyes tell the same need for living in the moment."

Will had just finsihed his words and before Harry could reply the bedroom door open and Louis came out. He too was dressed in his freshly cleaned clothes. His fatigue seemed almost completely gone. The experience of their past 48 hours had taught Harry the Louis' eyebags were a litmus test for his state of being. Rested and healthy his skin was flawless. Only the crinkles of a smile interrupted smooth, golden perfection. But if he was tired and hurting, his skin revealed darken shadows and under eye furrows. Harry saw now there was just a trace of redness. Mostly there was the glimmer of mischief and sass. 

Louis sat down at the table and Will quickly served up a plate to him. Then he went to an old trunk and began to rummage through it. "Louis," he said pulling something out, "I have something for you."

Turning around from his search Will had an old pair of leather boots in his hand. They were a style of roper cowboy boots with a rounded toe and a good heel for riding horseback. As old as they were, and distressed, they were in good condition, probably just broken in to the point of being most comfortable. 

"You try these. I'm pretty sure they will fit perfectly. You can't go around riding in tennis shoes. Even if you have two. That's how you have those kind of accidents like I told you about yesterday. Usually when people get messed up with their horses it's by doing something stupid. Like pulling out a rain slicker and throwing it on without thinking whether the horse has ever had a person add a flappy crinkly thing on to them while sitting on top of the horse."

Harry smiled. Yes. Louis was a lot like Francie. And Harry realized he was looking at an image of himself in Will of years into the future. 

Harry just hadn't known that there could be something like a love like that, like Will and Francie, not since his first love had been scorned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try to get more done soonish....summer work schedule is a biatch and I'm frequently lapsing into counting down days until 1D concert!


	16. Parachute

Outside Harry and Louis found that Will had their horses ready, saddled; all was set for them to ride back to the neighboring ranch. 

Harry inspected the two horses, Sweetie was thouroghly washed. Her cuts had been treated. She nuzzled Jazz who was truly her world. She stood tied by him looking calm, sweet, like the safest horse in the world. Why wouldn't Louis have picked her?

While Harry studied the horses he began to marvel at the unintrusive support Will gave them. It was beginning to sink in for Harry how the kind old man had simply taken them in with no reason to do so and been one step ahead of them on all their needs. But now it was time to head back to Bar 3 and, for Harry, his life of secrets. 

Will and Harry were saying their goodbyes as they were positioned next to the two horses. Louis was standing on the porch. Will invited Harry to drop by to visit again sometime soon. Harry tried to convey express how much he marveled at the assistance Will had been giving to them, mere strangers who invaded his world. Harry held back from adding how Will's actions defied his reputation as rumored among the lads at Bar 3. Misunderstood was something Harry could relate to. 

Then it occurred to Harry. Maybe Will was deliberately keeping his situation a secret, just like he himself was. After all, Will had lived for decades with a forbidden love in a time when there was little acceptance for that sort of thing. Then alone, his body failing with age, Will had to face the frequent attempts by the miscreants of Bar 3 raiding his ranch, stealing his crafted libations. 

Harry wondered if succesful boy-band raiders realized they were taking more than just alcohol. Maybe they had stolen the only pleasure left for the old man; enjoying a crafted drink where he get could lost in his memories, hidden in photographs. 

It occurred to Harry for the first time so many things he didn't ask Will about. Thoughts he'd never had as he was lost in the need of everything being about himself. Now he was leaving and he regretted uncharted lessons he wanted to learn. It never occurred to Harry to ask Will who was it that took the picture of them, Will and Francie, the one that prompted the story about the day up mountain top. Lakeside. Love. 

The emotions made Harry's stomach churn. Not because of nerves over love but because Harry was dreading going back to the ranch and his life of secrets. Will had created a fiction about himself to create fear in order to be not victemized by maurading bands of boys who tresspassed on his property and stole from him. But he wasn't actually a grumpy old man itching to shoot anyone who stepped foot on his ranch. He was a lonely man. Missing his lover who he had met at sixteen and loved--his--entire--life. 

A deeper epiphany occurred to Harry. The school teacher, his lover, the one who broke his heart was wrong. When he told Harry to stop being a foolish, the teacher pretending that he knew better about love as he chastised Harry and laughed at him for being "all emotional when Harry was no more than a child". That man who was twice Harry's age said Harry was "too young to understand". But now thanks to Will Harry knew. Sometimes true, lasting love does happen. That teacher was an idiot. A taker. A user. He was nothing in this world. 

"Maybe once I'm out of the trouble back at the Bar 3 they'll let me come by sometime again." Harry's said realizing he valued this friendship that had formed between he and a Will. 

Will was a mentor like Harry needed. Someone like him, someone who could accept him being this person he was not what the world expects him to be. 

"I'd like that Prince Harold," Will said earnestly. 

Harry scoffed at the monicer Will had given him but smiled despite his pretended offense about it. 

Will added, "And bring the pretty one with the cheekbones. I'll show you two the best trail to get up to that lake." 

They both turned to Louis who hadn't moved since he first stepped outside the cabin and saw the horses waiting. 

Jazz and Sweetie were tied at the same hitching rail that Harry and Louis had riden up to on the night of the storm now two days ago. Louis was standing on the porch, his back up against the front door, looking at the horses with hesitation. 

"Louis?" Harry said.

Louis continued to stand there looking, as Harry realized, more than just a little fearful. 

"Maybe we could just walk back. M'sore." Louis said from the safety of the porch. His voice almost squeaked giving him more a quality akin to a frighten mouse than the brash lad Harry knew from experience was Louis' nature. 

Will untied the two horses, turned them clear of the hitching rail and held the reins of their bridles patiently waiting for Louis. He and Harry exchanged knowing glances. Louis was having the normal reaction to a severe riding accident. 

"Louis, it's the next ranch over but it's still a ways off. We have to ride there. It will go fine, promise. No mountain trail. We'll just go straight out Will's driveway, follow the road, be back quicker than you think." Harry reassured as he walked closer to Louis. 

Louis was still eyeing the horses. He looked increasingly frightened at the prospect of riding again. Harry understood that Louis was still days, maybe a week away from not being sore from his fall. The mental scars of the trauma were the trouble though. Those would take longer to heal. 

Louis bit his lip and seemed to be thinking of something to say, another excuse to not ride. Harry came right up next to Louis on the porch so he was close enough that their bodies touched. He put a hand on the small of Louis' back where the arc of the curve of his body made an alluring transition from firm back to glorious swell of Louis' most spectacular bum. 

"Come on Louis. It will be okay. Promise." 

Without removing his hand Harry lead, pushed actually, Louis over to the horse he'd rode in on. Will had positioned the reins so they were over Sweetie's neck and she was ready to be mounted. He stood there stoking her neck and making certain she stayed completely still. 

With Harry position like a wall immediately behind Louis he faced the horse. Again Louis halted in fear. 

Louis hand reached to the horse's crest and gingerly grasped the reins, but his delicate fingers were shaking. 

Harry leaned into Louis and reaching around him took the stirrup that Louis needed to slip a foot onto. Harry held it as he let his curls brush against Louis cheek while he spoke with lips nearly touching Louis' ear. 

"Two days ago if I asked you to mount something you would have quipped back something like being up for a ride anytime, wouldn't you?" 

Louis laughed. It was a bizarre sounding laugh. A mixture of startled humor and restrained fear. Amusement and fear also mixed in the "uh hun" agreement that sounded like a very weak, uncommitted acceptance. 

Louis looked over his shoulder directly into Harry's eyes. His searching penetrated Harry with its need to see in Harry the confidence that he so lacked. Louis entrusting Harry, searching Harry to give him strength. 

Trust. Louis trusted Harry. Fear was overwhelming him and yet the was looking to Harry for courage. Harry hadn't been a person worthy of trust for years. Not since his heart had been burned. Here was the first time someone asked him for it. 

"Trust me." Harry whispered to Louis. 

Harry continued to hold the stirrup and swatted Louis' bum playfully. "Come on. Up we go." Harry paused giving Louis an intentionally charming smile, "It will be fine. Promise. Second best ride you can have on the ranch." 

The innuendo made Louis do a double-take but it chipped off a bit of his fear. He laughed at Harry's comment. The laugh sounded more like a normal laugh than one from a person needing convincing. Smiling more brightly, Louis nodded to Harry and held his breath as he stepped one foot up into the stirrup and reached to pull himself up to mount the horse. 

Louis lifted off the ground and as his weight shifted from the ground to the saddle Harry had a moment of breathlessness because d a t - a s s passed right before his face so close he could have bit it. 

"I'm not saying a word." Will said like he read Harry's mind. Will chuckled releasing his assist to hold Sweetie's reins and handed Harry the reins to Jazz's bridle. 

Addressing Louis Will spoke reassuringly, "You'll be fine Louis. The Prince here has a weakness for cheekbones. He'll get you home safe. Promise me you'll make good use of those boots. Think of them as Dorothy's ruby shoes. Click of the heels and who knows where they'll take you." 

Louis nodded affirmatively but he was looking down at the horse he sat upon like it was a monster. All humor was lost on Louis who was so frightened to be riding again but Harry found Will's use of hidden references to be funny for a man who was the same generation as his nanna. 

*** 

They started to ride out Will's long gravel driveway. Harry looked over his shoulder, waved a last goodbye to Will and took at quick glance at Louis whose horse was walking right behind Harry's. Louis was staring down at her. They were only a few strides enroute yet Louis was already nervous, perspiring. Harry could see how the tension riddled Louis' body. 

Many people on horseback carry nervousness in their shoulders as a phenomenon of posture to riding a horse. With Louis' scoop-neck tee shirt the strain of fear was visible. How could such pretty collarbones be so tense? 

Harry realized he would need to be creative in what he wanted to instruct Louis so he could break down the fear. 

This was a challenge. It was simply that the sight of Louis, developing a sheen, took Harry's intended conversation hostage. Harry could imagine Louis glistened like that when he was riding dick... 

And it was also Louis' thighs. Harry knew how luscious those muscular, defined limbs were. Now they were straddling a horse. Harry had to snap himself out of it. All of it. The way his mind was saturating itself in lust. 

So powerful was the attraction for Louislouislouis, that Harry hadn't even yet come to realize that he wasn't choking in anxiety, with chest tightening, breath-stealing paralysis that had been afflicting him. No. Nor was he in his standard sex-thirst state of needing to crush and manipulate. With Louis the feeling Harry has, he now realizes, was something completely different. Only later would Harry have time to reflect on that. For now Harry had to do something to get Louis comfortable riding the horse back to the ranch. Harry knew that without help Louis was so focused on his fear that he was going to create a phantom fear in his horse's mind.

It happens often times when a person is afraid. Phantom fear creeps into the rider's body and the horse, a prey species, detects it. They feel their rider become tense. The horse gets worried and begins to question what is so scary "out there" so the horse feels more lively under the rider. Then the person gets more nervous because the horse is jittery. The rider begins to question what is wrong with the horse. As more and more fear forms in the rider it creates more and more fear in the horse. Soon both horse and rider are looking for "something" scary and everything becomes scary, everything. It's a recipe for a train wreck.

Harry saw the begining of these dynamics with Louis and Sweetie. 

"Hey Louis, do you think you could stop looking down at your horse? Look here. Look at me."

"Okay"

Louis made one quick glance up. He didn't hold the focus though, feeling worried he looked back down at Sweetie again. 

"No Louis. Look here. Look at me, just me."

Louis did as Harry said. In a few strides Harry saw Sweetie relax. Her ears stopped flicking around questioningly and they pointed forward. Her steps went from irregular, tenuous steps to smooth and confident. 

Every horse is innately capable of walking and running without looking down at their feet. While that truth is obvious, what is not is how much they feel every micro-sized shifts in their rider's body, mostly coming from the person's head movements, like where a person looks. To a horse, looking down at them is like the person is worried about what is under their feet. A snake? 

Or maybe, the horse thinks, with people being meat-eaters, the rider is considering them a meal. Harry knew this because he'd been atop a horse since he was barely out of nappies. So always look where you are going to is the first step to good riding, Harry wanted to instruct. Have a place to go. Whether it's over a jump, through a stream, across a meadow, know where you want the horse to carry you and so they will. Be confused and they unravel. Horses always follow a calm, direct leader. Harry wanted Louis to be that calm leader for Sweetie. 

"Okay Louis that's better. Remember, you don't need to look at her. She's right under you, she's not going to disappear." 

Harry considered his words. When the hill side washed out Sweetie did disappear, sort of. So Harry decided to be more teasing in his instruction knowing Louis by nature, was inclined to respond to such coy banter. "I'm actually kinda jealous over here. I mean. You on her, riding her, looking all...like that."

Louis giggled at the implication. The giggle had an adorable quality to it that made Harry's heart swell with a pride. He made Louis feel like that. Comfortable, giggly, unfettered with the fear of death that was obviously in his mind when he first got on the horse.

"Okay, so you're not staring at her, so she feels better. Can you do another thing for me?" 

Louis scrunched his nose like everything was a strain but said yes, he'd try. Harry could see the nightmare of the trail accident was in Louis' mind and it was taking considerable trust in Harry with each request. And yes, Louis t-r-u-s-t-e-d Harry. 

"What I want you to do is to think about your bum." and yes, Harry knew as the words left his mouth that the instructions were potentially laden thick with sexual implications. He pushed on. There was no discussing proper riding without reference to things like bums, hips and pelvises. 

"Let yourself, your bum, feel Sweetie's steps as she makes each of them. You'll sense she's got a four beat gate at a walk. I want you to relax and let your hips rock a little with each step, kind of like your stepping with her." 

Louis looked at Harry like he was a little confused. The need to clarify this kept Harry's brain from its near free-fall into a fantasy of Louis rolling his hips as he rode Harry's dick. Somehow Harry knew Louis could do exactly anything with his hips with perfect fluidity. It was evident. Diverting to reality away from fantasy was not easy to manage, but Harry tried. 

"Trust me Louis. If you relax your hips, her steps will send a rythmic cadence that you can feel in your bum. If you give to it, your body will let her move more freely. Trust me. If you're frigid, trying to sit on her real still, it's actually like blocking her. Her spine is transferring a rythmic move with each step. Move with her and she moves better, more free, she relaxes." 

Louis seemed to be trying to think too hard about this. His face showed some worry. Then Harry saw that far off in the distance on the upper section of the mountain a truck was on the same road they were taking. It was a big truck. Likely it was something like a logging truck or a power company truck or some other type of similar rig. Whatever it was the truck would pass them eventually and Harry worried that Sweetie didn't know much about trucks passing her speeding on a gravel road. 

Keeping urgency about the necessity of the riding lesson from his voice Harry tried another tactic. 

"Louis, give me a count off to mark each foot beat starting with one of her front hooves." 

"What?" 

"Think of it like a beat of a song. Use a count or any sound. Pick any one hoof to start with and sound off the steps of all feet for me." 

"Da,da, da, da, dum" Louis said in a sing-song like fashion. 

"Dumb?" 

"Yeah, well, she only has four feet, so da, da, da, da, dum. Dum because it's back to the first hoof again." Louis said. 

That point was good. He had Louis focused on the horse's feet, feeling them. The rhythmic steps were musical to Louis, which was a brilliant translation actually. 

"Keep doing that" Harry said aware the truck was gaining on them. He was going to encorporate more into his requests and hopefully time them so Louis and Sweetie were working on this horse and rider body-talk when the truck passed. With luck Louis would be so focused on his job that Sweetie would focus on her job too and neither would think of the truck. 

Louis kept doing the beat. Harry pointed out it was musical. He almost felt it was suggesting a song, though he wasn't certain of the exact song but the idea was useful. He encouraged Louis, because distracting Louis in that was what could be most helpful for what he wanted Louis to be practiced to do when the truck passed on their flank. 

"Louis, if you have a song in mind, make that more pronounced. When you return to the "dum" part of your beat slightly press your leg on the roadside of Sweetie' body more firmly into her side. Make this a brief press and release it quickly. That tells her to stay on the side of the road, like she's doing naturally following Jazz. It will be like hugging her over to the edge of the road so she doesn't step into the middle of it." 

Harry didn't say the follow-up words about doom if they failed to stay on the edge of the road. He left off the part, "she needs to stay out of the road or you could be plastered on the front grill of a huge truck that is going to pass us". No. The truck was nearing but with the counting of the beat Louis apparently hadn't realized it yet. 

Then Louis did it. He actually broke into the song. As soon as Harry heard the words he realized the da--da--da-da-dum was a song he knew. Parachute.

"I don't need a parachute, baby, if I've got you--  
Baby, if I've got you--  
I don't need a parachute--  
You're gonna catch me--  
You're gonna catch me if I fall--  
Down, down, down" 

The words, the implication of them, the way they fit he and Louis...it affects Harry so deeply. They had really only met. Like Harry had protested, uneffectively to Will. 

Only met. 

Not in love. 

Couldn't be. Couldn't fall so fast. 

Love wasn't like that.

But the trust. The depth to which Louis gave his trust to Harry. 

Harry saw the truck making a brief appearence far before it was hidden by the path it followed. The mountain road had numerous curves, slopes of various pitches, lots of trees. Sometimes the truck completely disappeared from view, but still it closed the gap. Soon it would be heard. So Harry sang. He recites the first verse of The Ingrid Michaelson song.

"I don't tell anyone about the way you hold my hand,--  
I don't tell anyone about the things we have planned,--  
I won't tell anybody, won't tell anybody--  
They wanna push me down, they wanna see you fall."

Harry took a breath, himself becoming a bit nervous when he saw the truck was still descending from the upper section of road and certain to pass them before they reached the Bar 3 ranch entrance and turned off the road.

"I won't tell anybody that you turn my world around--  
I won't tell anyone that your voice is my favorite sound--  
I won't tell anybody, won't tell anybody--  
They wanna see us fall, they wanna see us fall down."

Louis repeated the chorus and through his singing his face was lit with a smile. 

"I don't need a parachute, baby, if I've got you--  
Baby, if I've got you--  
I don't need a parachute--  
You're gonna catch me--  
You're gonna catch me if I fall--  
Down, down, down"

The truck closed the gap. It seemed to have gained speed as it got to the lower and straighter part of the road where they were riding which caused Harry to pause singing because of growing alarm. In his pause where the verse would gave begun Louis took up the song there assuming Harry's memory had lapsed on the words. 

"Don't believe the things you tell yourself so late at night,--  
And you are your own worst enemy, you'll never win the fight--  
Just hold on to me, I'll hold onto you,--  
It's you and me up against the world,--  
It's you and me"

There was too much that Harry was struggling to process. He was watching for Louis correctly guiding Sweetie, Sweetie responding correctly to Louis, the distance between them and the approaching vehicle so he didn't realize how Louis had taken the song back at exactly at a verse that described him; truthfully Harry had been his own worst enemy. Maybe his holding onto Louis was a rightful description of him emotionally. You and me. You and I, Harry thought. 

But then Harry broke in with the next verse seeing the truck was nearly upon them and knowing their horses heard it. Sweetie heard it, her ears flicked back to listen to it but then she turned them forward focusing ahead. Louis was being a good leader to her by looking to where they were going so Sweetie acknowledged the truck she heard but she was following Louis' lead. She returned her focus to where she was walking and stayed calmly behind Harry and Jazz. 

"I don't believe anything, don't trust anyone but me..." Harry sung and faltered again as he saw the size of the truck which came into clear view rounding a final turn as it approached unimpeeded. 

He worried Louis would freak. It was a big truck set up for drilling wells. Harry could finally discern that. It was wide, long and rattled with all the equipment it carried. He was starting to sing on, "but..", the only word he got out because his hesitation was unintentionally brilliant. 

Louis perceived the hesitation again as struggle to recall lyrics. He began where Harry had stalled. 

"But I believe you when you say we're never gonna fall,--  
Hand behind my neck,--  
Arms around my waist,"-- 

The next words were so ironically fitting and in exact timing with the truck. 

The truck cast a shadow over them. Louis eyes widened as he realized it was there in that split second. He was caught off guard because he was singing. It's unexpected rush of dust hit. Louis filled with the sensation like one gets in a dream like they are experiencing a life-shattering fall. 

"Never let me hit the ground.--  
You'll never let me crash." 

The truck blew more road dust that overwhelmed them in its wake. 

Sweetie seemd to lift, elevate, a little but she kept her body safely on the side of the road as the truck passed beside them. The precious few seconds that it took for the danger to pass Harry felt his heart pang. Louis sang the words,  
"Never let me hit the ground.--  
You'll never let me crash." 

No. Harry could not have lived if he had let Louis crash. 

The immersion Harry felt in heart-arresting fear was stripped away as quick as the truck passed them because Louis abandoned the song which seemed written for them and he began a shower of explicatives. But then the curses morphed into something of a rapid enthused praise, thankfulness for being alive. 

Similar to the time Harry found Louis up in the meadow grazing Snowball, only to discover he was cavorting with a butterfly, Louis became a babbling chipmunk of excited questions. Questions he asked but waited Louis did not to get an answer before he had yet another. 

"Where did that come from?", "Did you see the size of that thing?", "What does that truck do with those massive tubes?", "Did you see Sweetie's face...did she look like she thought we where going to die? I thought we were!" "How in the hell are we not dead?" The stream of questions went on. Harry couldn't get in an answer. When Louis was finally coming down from his adrenaline chatter they both were alerted to the presence of riders on the road ahead of them. A group coming from Bar 3, mentors and wranglers, were riding to meet them. Time to return to reality. 

They were two lads in a program for troubled youth after all. Harry took one last look at Louis, who was flushed with the experience of feeling so alive from a rush like what he just experienced. He was sunny and smiley. Skin around his eyes had crinkles from the smile he couldn't contain over being alive and feeling a confidence one gets from succeeding at something like partnership with one's horse. He was still rambling and completely unaware about the on coming riders. 

Harry had been at the ranch for a long time. He wasn't new, like Louis. There would be consequences for running off. Maybe more maybe less depending upon how things faired for Niall, Zayn and Liam. The risk they all took. The danger to human and livestock for injury. Property damage, trespass. How much consequence would they all face and share?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Ingrid Michaelson song "Parachute" came to my attention thanks to some 1D fan who put a lovely Larry video on YouTube. Readers who know the song will get more from this and I hope Parachute gives everyone that lovely feel it brings to me. Thank you for reading and sharing your opinions. Thank you to Ingrid and that YouTube video creator for the inspiration.


	17. Nimble minx

It was a frustrating week for Harry. Every day started, as the day had before; with no promise of seeing Louis, or even the other three lads from the UK. Restrictions on their free time and collective gathering had been the penance for their bad judgement. 

While Harry passed through the days he was finding himself more and more dreaming about the last time he saw Louis. As soon as he spotted the group of riders from Bar3 Harry knew that they were in big trouble. 

Harry and Louis were met on the road by counselors and wranglers who escorted them the final leg of their ride back to Bar 3. When they got to the ranch they it became apparent some of the reason for meeting up with them was because of the trail washout. It was big news. There was considerable concern over the accident that befell Louis and Sweetie. Will had made it clear that they were held over at his ranch because of "injuries". Harry was quick to assist Louis in his dismount from Sweetie when they reached the stable. 

That brief final moment together when Louis got off the horse before they were sent off to face reprocushions for their misbehavior stayed in Harry's mind in the week to follow. The sensations of touch lingered as if memories were tattooed into his fingertips; they sustain him in the absecence of seeing each other. Louis was etched into Harry now, now that his heart had opened.

Harry recalled that Sweetie was standing where a wrangler held her reins as he instructed Louis to jump down but Louis hesitated. It occurred to Harry that Louis maybe didn't really even know how to properly get off a horse. Or that he was just so sore. Harry leaped off Jazz went over next to Louis' horse. 

Not wanting anyone to catch on that his interest was more that instructive, Harry stopped Louis before he made a move with a loud announcement for all watching them to hear.

"Now wait Louis. Since you're banged up, let me help you off okay?"

He looked up at Louis who had swung a leg over so both were on one side like he was going to drop off Sweetie as if coming down a slide. It was an easy dismount that way, but not traditional. Louis was sitting there with both feet on the same side of the horse facing to Harry. When Harry stepped in to assist Louis' face lightened with relief. His smile was so bright and so full of appreciation Harry nearly fell over with it.

"Harry." Louis said with a wispy, gasp-like tone. 

Harry reached up to Louis like a parent would do to assist taking a small child down from a tall horse. Harry's hands went to Louis' waist and he said "come on you" which clued Louis to slide down all the while Harry held onto him.

When Louis' feet hit the ground Harry pressed forward sandwiching Louis between his body and that of the little mare. He kept his hands on Louis' waist while he spoke for the benefit of the watching crowd. 

"It's okay, Louis, I got you."

It sounded to the group like Harry, keenly aware of the trauma Louis had been through, was simply tending to him. Not in anyway did the assistance seem t o o friendly.

However the exchange between Harry and Louis, unspoken, communicated by the talk of their eyes was something so much more powerful than mere courteous friendship. It spoke a thousand words. And it only lasted a few seconds.

Then Harry was ushered one way, Louis another; Harry with his counselor and a program officer who was assisting in taking a statement of their adventure. Louis was lead a different way by his counselor and another program officer. They were escorting him to first be seen by a doctor to assess injuries. And so the lads were pulled in opposite directions.

Apart from each other was the way it had been for a solid week.

Harry hadn't seen Louis in the light of day once since Louis' dismounted in his arms. As time went on Harry could feel his hands seemed to call for the need. The need to put that small waist between them. He needed to replay the smile that greeted him. Experience their closeness again. Harry's hands ached for the touch and so did his heart. 

In addition to never seeing Louis, Harry scarcely saw Zayn, Liam or Niall. When he did it was clear that they too were kept busy and completey banished from interactions with each other. 

The punishment, a suspension of leisure time, was an almost cruel thing given that now Harry's heart filled with emotions he hadn't felt for a long, long time.

Lying in bed in bed after many "No-Louis" days Harry was thinking over the only conversation he'd had with any of his mates during the week. In a brief run in with Niall, Harry learned that they were all facing a detention, or some form of severe restrictions on their time. 

To hear Niall talk it didn't seem so bad in the big picture. If anything Niall seemed kind of giddy. Really happy. Like a few days missed with his buddies was nothing in the big scheme of things. 

Then in an uncharacteristic statement, like something that was far more normal for the old Harry to say than for Niall, Niall announced to Harry the reason for his elated state. He blurted out that following the fucking he'd received during his one night at the cabin with the other two he could do with a little "recovery time". 

"In fact", Niall said to Harry, "I could do with at least two more days before I think I can even begging walk normally. So m'good with the restrictions. Not sure I'd feel that way though if I saw Liam or Zayn. In a way forced to avoid them is better, I guess." 

Niall bit his nails when he finished and Harry could see how he was drifting into a daydream about the sex. It must have been good, Harry thought. And the recovery time? Probably needed. 

That night Harry laid on his bed thinking of how nonchalant Niall was about revealing the whole thing. So much sex he could not walk straight. Alrighty then, Harry thought about what a monster Liam packed. Liam used to be his desired target, his favorite pawn. Sensing Niall's sincerity of emotions for the soft-eyed Liam Harry felt guilt for the first time. There was really no sport in using Liam like that. Harry realized this and for the first time felt real remorse. He even admitted to himself that he actually really liked Liam. Like a friend. Maybe they could start anew. 

Those were Harry's thoughts when he heard his door open just as he was slipping into sleep.

"Harry?" He heard or so maybe he thought. 

Harry didn't respond because it sounded like a voice whispered in his dream. Besides it couldn't be from in his room. Since the "rescue Niall expedition" the wayward five were so mistrusted that every night one of the program counselors was sleeping in the hallway. In fact on this night the cot on which the man was sleeping was positioned right outside Harry's door, perpendicular to the door. Someone coming into Harry's room would have to step over the sleeping person. On various nights their sentry of the evening would sleep in front of one of their five doors. It just so happened on this night to be Harry's. 

"Harry?" 

This time there was no escaping it. The whisper was from within his room and Harry felt the touch of delicate hands clumsily feeling over him as they were obviously leading a blinded by the dark intruder to him. The searching hands found his torso and scrambled their way up to his shoulders and then came trailing up his neck to stop resting with a hold full of curls. 

The voice whispered. "There's just something about this silken mane, I don't know. Just can't take another day not playing with it. Can't. Won't." 

Louis. 

"Louis?" 

The answer to Harry's query came silently. 

And warm on his lips. 

And it was slightly damp, and firm. 

Maybe not firm exactly, but with intention. Confirmation was in the form of a kiss. 

It was a kiss that swept Harry into it. In total darkness sense of touch intensified. This aided the feeling like his lips, their lips, were meant to be; a perfect unison of velvety softness and urgent need. Before Harry could gather his first breath from the shock of this pleasurable experience Louis' tongue was entering his mouth and taking Harry's breath from him. 

Harry would have convinced himself this was all just a dream, something his mind was playing on him as he drifted to sleep except that the breath-stealing pleasure was paused when the two intertwined heard a stirring at Harry's door and bolted apart. 

The dim light of an exit sign at the end of the hall had given enough illumination and with eyes adjusting to the dark Harry and Louis could tell that the body sleeping on the cot at Harry's door had shifted in position. Maybe even the sound of a very quiet kiss, or the deepened breathing of its participants had been enough noise to stir the sleeping sentry. 

Harry felt some panic, he didn't want them to be caught. No, he couldn't have that happen. Just this one week of not seeing Louis was torture enough. What would happen if they were discovered like this? And how the hell did Louis get over a sleeping man laying on a cot that was wide enough to prevent someone from simply stepping over the sleeper? 

Yet here was Louis. Hands in Harry's hair. Kissing him. It was heaven, but it was also quite odd. 

Odd. For much of the week the reports about Louis had been like that. If Harry was socializing with lads he was allowed to congregate with he would get that same word used about Louis. Everyone seemed to have incidents to share about something strange that Tomlinson was doing, bizarre things, for which he always had some excuse. Harry tried to learn more but most often though the talk drifted to the other interest around the ranch about pranks that kept befalling the band of lads from Australia. 

The week that the UK lads were banished from free activities and in their penalty box had coincidentally been a very bad week for the Australians as well. 

Each day they had suffered the consequences of some prank. It had become the thing to talk about. That, and the oddness of Louis. Ideas were being conjured about him as he was so new and people were still learning about him. One common thing was to speculate what put Louis in the program since he was apparently not keen on revealing it to other lads. So rumors. Odd stories. 

But now as they were kissing Harry's Louis was violating suspension, in Harry's room where a sleeping counselor could be heard stirring as he lie in his potable bed just a few feet away. Harry heard the man finally settle and seem to go back into deeper sleep which made Harry's heart stop racing from the fear of discovery. Harry could only vaguely see the outline of Louis who was right beside Harry's bed perhaps also straining to ascertain if the man was going to fully become wake and discovering them. 

The way Louis' form was back lit so that only a silouette or a shadow of his form was outlined served to all the more emphasize how his body was put together. That tiny waist that Harry's hands had been lingering on when they got back was discernible in the light. The way it was offset by the hourglass quality that came from having the most amazing arse that any boy could ever claim. It just, just, j u s t. 

Harry wanted to pull it into him. Put that bum in his lap, thread his arms around Louis starting with a hand on each side of that waist and wrap Louis' smaller body into his to hold him again like they had done at Will's cabin. 

But no. Harry felt Louis shove a piece of paper into his hands when he reached out for Louis. Louis then went to the open door leaving Harry wanting. 

Harry was about to warn Louis. Why was he looming over the sleeping man? What was he doing at the door? They would get caught! 

That's when with the still so soft illumination Harry watched the nimblest, monkey-like feat of par core he'd ever seen. Louis reached up and took a hold of the framing over the door, the strip of wood no more that a half inch at best of ledge. Then he pulled himself up and placed each the bottom of each foot on opposite sides of the open doorway and worked himself further up the open space. 

Keeping his weight in both feet and one hand, Louis positioned the other hand from were it was so he switched one hand use the outside of the door frame instead the inside. Then he repositioned his other hand to the outside door frame too and changed his feet one at a time. Harry could see Louis had just managed to take himself clear of inside the room and was pretty much hanging directly over the sleeping man. Using the door frame, it's tiniest of ledge to move, Louis got to the edge of the door. He seemed to pause to consider his last move then Louis pushed off with his feet and dropped to the floor. 

It was not a loud sound when Louis landed but Harry's heart raced. He guessed that Louis touched ground having just cleared the cot by a hair and was staying there motionless to make certain that the man didn't wake. Indeed the counselor rolled into a new position perhaps his subconscious hearing a sound, a soft thump, but he remained asleep. 

Harry sat there wondering what was on the note Louis had passed to him and waited until he heard what would be the tiniest of noise which indicated that Louis made it back into his own room. Once Harry was convinced that man was still asleep at his open door he went to it and closed it softly. He waited still longer before he risked turning on a small lamp and read the note.

The first thing Harry noticed was the signature. It was "Louis T" with the "t" like a smiley and a heart shape made the dot over the "i". It was a school-girl like sentimentality which struck Harry's heart with a pang of emotion. The signature was so adorable it defied any measure. Then there were the words. 

"Harold! ❤️ I've heard it from Kyla that she is planning on being sick tomorrow. Her six lesson kiddos -plus me- are scheduled for a riding lesson. She's going to tell the others that the only one the little girls will accept if not her tracing is you. (Kyla says she's "a Larry". I think that's about us.) Louis T"

Harry read the note over and over. Kyla was going to put Harry in charge of her group riding lesson. She was doing this fully aware of something going on between Harry and Louis. Harry and Louis would be bale to see each other at a time that this was forbidden. Yep, Kyla was pretty cool. Also, since she was in charge of lessons for children she had complete authority so no one would question her decision. Frequently Kyla had lads form the program assigning her, so this was not unusual. Also consistent was how often she relied on Harry, who was known for being knowledgable about horses and great with kids. 

The unusal thing was having a program attendee in Kyla's lesson group. Rumors following the Niall rescue incident had greatly dramatized everything about the adventures of the five. Harry heard people discussing over meals what they imagined happened since details weren't shared by the staff to boys in the program. 

In the absecence of information people made things up. It was however true that the five of them were riding where they shouldn't be, especially given Louis' novice skills. Not only were they riding on bad terrain but it was in conditions few should be out in. It was that incident which may have lead to the decision to get Louis lessons on horseback. If he should at least be given a chance to learn basic riding, just in case, Kyla's little kid group lesson was an easy starting place. Rumors about someone riding with the little kids lessons had passed Harry's attention without notice. At the time he hadn't heard the name "Louis" and so Harry only knew rumors were spinning. 

Rumors. Harry had a lot of time to listen to them while relegated to tasks all week that were to created to make him have opportunity for reflection. Occassionally he had tried to gleen from others what was going on with his partners in the rescue Niall misadventure. Most of the other lads he encountered were only interested in talking about the pranks, who was getting the better of the Australians, how they had pulled some of the pranks off undetected. If Louis was a subject Harry managed to bring up the usual response was asking Harry if he knew if it was really true that Louis had been sent to Bar 3 for... 

That was it. The fact that each person asked Harry the same question about Louis. Basically, always "why was Louis at Bar 3" would come up. Harry always said "no clue". The corresponding follow up was an opinion, always a different offense, speculated. Harry had heard no fewer than ten different things Louis had allegedly done. 

As Harry drifted off to sleep clutching the note in his hand his mind tumbled through so many thoughts; the hopefulness of seeing Louis. The rumors over Louis' multitude of prospective crimes. Ranch pranks. Mostly thought Harry's mind toyed over the details of the kiss. The kiss that happened just minutes before Louis did a Spider-Man like thing climbing out of Harry's room. Who climbs like that? 

*** 

"Who climbs like that?" Niall asked himself. 

The question Niall pondered was one he asked himself because as he was riding in the large indoor area he noticed something that oddly no one else riding in the barn with him had. 

The indoor arena had a series of rafters that spanned the entire width of the barn. In regular intervals some large flags were hanging. All of these flags represented the flags of program attendees' home countries. It was a way to make the barn look more like any other competition arena and it was a good way to get horses accustom to things like flags as part of life among humans. None of the flags were hung low enough to be a bother as someone rode since they were well over head. As a general rule no one really noticed them. 

Niall didn't know what made him look up but when he was stopped his horse under where one flag hung closest to one of the corners of the arena something gave him that being watched feeling. So he looked up. There on a rafter, his position masked by a flag, was Louis. Niall was quite literally stopped in precisely the only place Louis in hiding would be seen. 

When Niall spied Louis, Louis smiled down at Niall, waved, and gestured with his fingers pressed to lips to be quiet about this. Niall immediately dropped his look at Louis and acted normal to avoid drawling attention to someone being hidden in the rafters overhead. 

Niall sat there on his horse, like they were just stopped in the corner out of the way to watch the others riding past and whispered loud enough that Louis could hear but no one else riding around would. He spoke through a smile that looked like a Cheshire Cat grin. "Louis, you nimble minx, you're going to have to tell me sometime what the bloomin fuck you're doing up there." 

Niall shook his head with disbelief and rode on. Each lap he made around the arena he watched for others to notice Louis but they did not. When he finsihed his ride and was leaving he saw the next group of riders to enter the arena was the Australians. It made Niall pause with an idea and look back into the arena. 

Louis was in the barn hidden in the rafters. 

The Australians would be riding in there following Niall's group. 

The Australians had been victems of a week-long string of pranks. 

Niall smiled. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a challenge to find time to write. I'm putting this up without the second installment of the threesome or details of prank side story. Those topics will be in the next chapter I guess. Hope this is


	18. All about Niall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally some Niall-centered smut.

Hounds tongue seeds. Burrs. The inspiration for the invention of Velcro. How was it that Michael, Ashton, Luke and Calum all sat at lunch itching and scratching only to find they literally couldn't count the number of nasty prickly seeds they were pulling from their clothing? 

Somehow after riding indoors, far from the wilds and weeds, they each discovered an abundance of these burrs had worked into their shirts. They first found the seeds in their shirt collars, "but how in the hell, " Luke asked, "did these things get into our clothing?" Luke pulled another burr out of his shirt from where it was stuck and looked at his equally annoyed and uncomfortable mates who were doing the same. 

The tables of boys who sat around them were watching them with interest. Smirks and laughter was directed their way. This made five days straight of someone playing some prank on them. It had started with sand in their beds on Monday. They each woke Tuesday late and unrested after a night of discomfort from the gritty substance which had slipped into their beds somehow. There was later on Tuesday when they were the last one back from work detail. They went to use the showers before dinner and found the only water available was cold direct from the well. So, yeah, ice cold. Apparently someone had shut off the line of hot water from the pump it was later discovered after they all suffered through icy showers. 

Next there was riding out on Wednesday to do another work day away from the ranch buildings only to find their water bottles that they had filled themselves somehow had salt added to the water so they couldn't drink it. 

Thursday they each began their day finding their clothing was tampered with. Michael started to pull on a pair of jeans, his seams along the crotch busted open. Inspection of his pants revealed all of them had the treads cut along the crotch seams so when he put any jeans on the seams split like paper along a perforation. Ashton found all of his laces on his boots and shoes were cut so they too broke when he pulled on the laces to tie the boots. Calum's boxers had been tampered with and Luke's shirts. 

This prank of Hound's Tongue seeds getting into their shirts was a mystery. They were never in the weeds nor did they start their day with prickly burrs in their clothing so unless the seeds fell from the sky there was no explanation. 

Around them boys laughed. The Australians dreaded Friday and what we befall them next as it appeared it was a weeklong run of pranks they were likely to suffer.

***

Niall was running to make use his first break from the week of suspension for some time playing guitar having left a good session with his counselor. He ran around one of the buildings and ran right smack into Louis who was skulking in the shadows.

The collision sent them both back onto their bums. As Louis got up Niall apologized and then noticed Louis had some things he was recovering from the scatter effect of their collision. It was just thread and some tiny scissors. 

"Hey Niall! You don't see anything do you?" Louis said holding evidence for having been tampering with say, somebody 's clothing. The scissors were tiny enough to cut threads along a seam one witch at at time. The thread was perfect for sewing shut the legs of someone's briefs. 

"Nope. Just like I didn't see anything in the rafters in the arena right over the head of riders below earlier today either. Nope not seeing anything unusual now. Out of curiosity where did you get that stuff?"

"The building where Zayn and I..." Louis stopped. Was it still a sore subject? That he and Zayn fucked without including Niall? 

"Louis. M'sorry for over reacting, putting everyone in danger by running away and everything."

Louis grabbed Niall in a hug and ruffled his hair like Niall was a child. He kept his hold on Niall and assured him their was no need to apologize. Louis finished with, "...we never meant to exclude you though. And you know that now, right? Zayn's not even my type..."

"I know! I mean, I know that now. Zee told me. Um when he and I, Liam..." Niall was blushing so red with embarrassment that he switched subjects to spare himself more. Furthermore this was actually the opportunity he'd been waiting for. A chance to talk to alone Louis for advice.

Things had switched to being beyond his wildest dreams since the night the three, Niall, Liam and Zayn spent at the cabin to wait out the storm. But it was a fast turn around and Niall felt awkward in the aftermath. Inexperienced. Embarrassed. 

"Um, Louis? If Zayn is not your type why did you and he, um, you...why are you so...so..."

"Slutty?" Louis supplied the adjective. The choice surprised Niall. He shook his head "no" beciase he wasn't going to say that, but yeah, maybe. Maybe though. But most certainly Niall meant to say "confident" because Louis was all that, slutty and confident. Or slutty and needy like in the way Louis wanted Zayn when Zayn wanted only Liam. It wasn't, Niall realized attraction to Zayn specifically that made Louis want Zayn to fuck him, it was just that to Louis, it seemed Zayn was a tool. Louis was okay with that. 

Feelings of being nothing but a tool was what Niall needed to ask Louis about. How does it work out to be okay? That, and well, other things Niall wanted advice about because he was pretty certain Louis that had considerable experience with all sorts of things. 

Niall couldn't say that to Louis though, because Louis was also this really decent person, oddly enough. Sex crazed, yes. Assured of his sexuality? Yes, admirably so. Niall wanted to be more like that. He needed to be. 

For Niall it was as daunting and it was desirable to think of he, Liam and Zayn together again. As the restrictions on their free time we're ending, possiblitltues of more threesome activity, Niall needed a confidant. A teacher. If he could just learn how to not compare himself to the other two. Maybe he wouldn't feel so selfconscious and unworthy. 

***

If it hadn't been for their conversation Niall wouldn't have felt able to control his fears and control the outcome when opportunity arose a few days later. It had become a beautiful evening following a fun day on the ranch that had ended with a outdoor barbecue the window had opened for Niall to make a move to lead Zayn and Liam away from the crowd of people and seize an opportunity that felt right. 

That was Louis' first suggestion for Niall who was still seeking confirmation of being more central to the threesome of he Zayn and Liam; not just an after-thought or tool. Somehow in sharing of his fears, Niall confessed to Louis his desire to be filled by both. In his mind it would represent some more meanfull role and define him as something other than a bottom of convenience.

Louis was such a good listener. He let silence rest in the air and thought long about what Niall told him. When he finally began his reply he pulled Niall in close to him with a supportive hold. Niall had become accustom to the touchiness of Louis and he liked this extra assurance which that contact brought with it. 

"Niall if you're going to go for double penetration you got to be more completely in control, not just handing yourself over playing out some cheap porn fantasy. You have to decide when the time is right, how it's going to go. A guy like Liam, from what I hear, and with Zayn, together? Not good unless you take care of yourself, yeah, you get what I'm saying? You might think it's about wowing them but you got to think first is it pleasing to you." Louis suggested.

***

With a little bit of playful flirting during the barbeque Niall was finding he was certain he was ready. The time was now. And control? He was easily able get in the middle, quite literally, of Liam and Zayn. The three had wandered off from the cookout as most the crowd was busy with its campfire distractions. Liam had tossed away a cigarette that Zayn meant to enjoy. Zayn seemed quite contented once he discovered Liam's purpose was to engage him in languidly slow kisses when they were out of sight. Soon both were mutually absorbed with roaming of hands unable to resist increasingly physical contact with each other. 

Previously the two had always gotten absorbed in each other. They would consider Niall when they got hung up, or so Niall thought, believing they both were too set on their roles as tops, neither going to concede to the other. Prepared for this eventuality Niall took advantage when he saw the oncoming signs. He began undressing himself as he watched them creating a frenzy of need in each other. 

Once his clothes were removed and Niall was certain each of the other two were uncomfortable with their need for more he slipped his thin form between them and demanded their mouths find his lips, his throat, his skin. He had easily seen their straining bulges in their pants. He was certain he was extremely welcomed in their mix. As they began.to encorporate him into their foreplay they discovered his cock stood ready having bloomed, aroused by watching them and his anticipation of having them. 

Once Niall had Liam and Zayn alternating between peppering him with kisses and stroking him, he engaged in helping them undress taking more time to deliberately focus on Liam. 

Louis had instructed Niall as a way of cautioning him to make sure he prepared himself. Not to jump into too fast. Let the pleasure of taking one, than the other and then finally and only if he was certain he was physically ready move on to both, "You decide Niall. But don't be afraid to wait for a better time if it doesn't feel right. You want whatever you do to be right for you. Don't engage in something just because you want your place with them to be validated."

"Liam and Zayn aren't the type of people who need their egos stroked. They are both so much more real, very real, more so than most. They'll be patient with you." 

As Niall found himself sliding to his knees at Liam's feet, he thought to himself that this was "very real" alright.

Real. It was real that Niall wanted this. Them. The two of them. Whether it was something that rubbed off from Louis, an infection of the sluttiness, or just Niall's own incarnation with maturity. He most desperately wanted this. 

Niall allowed his focus to settle on Liam; Liam's cock feeling heavy when he took it in his hand. Zayn would come along without directions Niall hoped. Louis assured Niall that Zayn was a quick study and he was inclined to react creatively. So yeah, Niall held Liam with one hand, some times two, and began to do his best taking the massive dick into his mouth to spur Liam on. He took breaks to try to prevent gagging and ran his tongue along the length or kissed Liam's pelvis and nibbled over it pleasingly. Another thing he tried, another Louis' suggestion for dealing with a frightfully big dick, was to focus more on playing with the head of Liam' cock. Niall found this more appealing than trying to deep throat Liam and having to come off making jarringly, harsh choking sounds.

"The feeling of a tongue teasing the slit creates sensations just as powerful." Louis had advised Niall. "You don't need to bury your face in his belly to bring him pleasure. From what I hear that doesn't sound possible with Liam anyway."

Sticking to playfully teasing Liam's knob, Niall brought him to a point where Liam couldn't help but recklessly seize Niall with both hands as he tried to stay on his feet. Hands were in Niall's hair, on Niall's shoulders, sometimes grabbing the back of Niall's head straining to resist pulling Niall's head into his pelvis. That's when Niall felt Zayn slide close behind him. 

Zayn was on his knees too. He slipped an arm around Niall and was giving Niall a gentle hand job. Niall moaned his pleasure and pressed his bum back into Zayn's pelvis. He felt the slickness on Zayn's dick as it was pressed by his actions into the length between Niall's cheeks. Zayn slid his cock along the crease teasing Niall's bum, his dick teasing but not yet entering Niall. 

Niall moaned and pushed firmer into Zayn murmuring "yes" too ask for more. 

Zayn whispered "Patience,". He slowly moved a hand to the front of Niall's pelvis to hold Niall steady while his other hand found Niall's nipple and teased it with delicate finger strokes, "Your starting to act like Louis a bit too much". Lips brushed the back of Niall's neck following the comment. Niall let his pleasure escape across his lips loudly before silencing himself by engulfing as much of Liam's length as he could to muffle himself from become too loud like he knew Louis would do when teased. He didn't want Louis' influence to be too apparent. 

A few minutes of Liam in his mouth and Zayn rubbing his slicked dick along his bum had Niall pulling off Liam. With a voice half-wrecked he said, "Oh please just fuck me Zee." and resumed with Liam. 

Zayn was only too happy to oblige. He made his entry slow and careful but it was not long after Zayn first reached bottom that Zayn began a rhythmic pulsing like he wasn't going to be able to hold off long. Perhaps spurred on my Liam calling out he that was going to come in broken words, was the key because very quickly Zayn was indeed reaching an orgasm. He made a desperate effort pull out of Niall and strip off his condom. Niall felt the splattering of Zayn's cum across his back. 

Liam and Zayn's comments were a blend of astonished compliments and appreciation to Niall for whatever got into him yet Niall wanted to keep the momentum and not stop there. "Keep your lovers' focused on your needs, your will." Louis had said. "Don't be afraid to be pushy. When I've bottomed for someone I want them to go away feeling like I used them. They served me."

Niall turned around while remaining on his knees to face Zayn. Temporarily ignoring Liam he kissed Zayn aware that Liam's scent was strong on him and its allure pulled Zayn into him. As they kissed Niall kept a hold of Zayn, almost cradling him as he laid Zayn down where they were kneeling. 

Once Zayn was on his back Niall crawed over him coming to hover over Zayn with his face conveniently inches from Zayn's cock. Sprawling so his legs were on either side of Zayn' face. Niall's own cock was still needing release and was extending full and erect to millimeters away from Zayn's mouth. Niall supported himself with one arm as he used his other hand to take up Zayn's cock and bring it into his mouth to begin to suck off his other lover. 

Niall found managing Zayn, who quickly became hard again, was so much easier than taking Liam. Nevertheless Zayn helped Niall out by taking hold of the base of his own cock as Niall began taking all of Zayn head to base in a slow, tortuous pace. 

Pleasing Niall was clearly Zayn's interest as he lay under Niall. Zayn borrowed inspiration from the approach he witness Niall used to play with the head of Liam's cock. Zayn was restricting to rolling the upper most quarter of Niall's cock in his mouth and occasionally lapping in the slits an imitation that maybe he knew Niall learn from Louis.

It felt good. So good. Louis was right about Zayn being a quick study, Niall thought. Still somewhat lacking confidence he sensed Zayn's execution of this was better than his with Liam.

Nevertheless Niall was so aroused and he wasn't going to let Liam content himself with just watching their 69. He remembered the repeated caution by Louis, to make sure he was properly prepped before attempted to take them both as one. 

"Liam are you going to watch and play with yourself or you going to put that anaconda of yours in me?"

Always a gentleman Liam was waiting for this invite. He came to his knees and inched to come right next to Zayn's head where his cock met Niall's hole. Liam found the slurping noises and hums Zayn made intoxicating. His cock was ready for another go. He looked down from a view over Niall's tiny bum to see Zayn's closed eyes as he rolled the knob of Niall's penis in his mouth. Then Zayn's eyes flick open and met his. Liam imagined how spectacular it might look from Zayn's view to watch inch after inch of his cock was sliding into the Irishman. What a view. He wanted to see Zayn's expression as he filled Niall. 

Niall's hole was loose from Zayn, but again, the ever present gentleman Liam made sure to rub over Niall's arse forwarningly, squeezing and molding flesh with his hands. He playfully slapped Niall's cheeks as if to offer Niall a warning to be ready before he began thrusting.

Niall popped off Zayn and looked over his shoulder to say four words in a strained voice to Liam. Liam wouldn't know, but Zayn heard the implication of something Louis-like in the way Niall said "Get on with it."

Liam smiled. He slapped Niall's arse again and picked up his pace. 

***

Oddly Niall only realized after Liam pulled out of him, tore off his condom and came across his back, a repeat of Zayn actions who had come across Niall's back not long before, that he hadn't actually fully felt the entry of Liam filling him as much as he had on prior occassions. Instead Niall was more keenly aware of the emptiness of when Liam pulled out. Niall assumed this was because Liam had been initially pushing into him as Zayn was coming down his throat. That left a blissed-out Zayn still lying under Niall who struggled to keep himself up on hands and knees as Liam pounded him. Liam didn't last long with his second orgasm. Probably because it was in quick succession after his first when Niall had sucked him off. 

As Liam and Zayn came down from their highs they each realized they had cum a second time thanks to Niall. Both times they left him nearing nirvana but unrequited. Not receiving his full pleasure Niall was quick to snap his lover's into yet another position and to go for the Holy Grail. "Keep your pleasure their only command" Louis had tutored. Liam and Zayn were all too happy to oblige.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay loves, sorry I've been away. I work three jobs so one, took me to Central America for a couple weeks. Limited wifi and work schedule kept taking away from my writing time.  
> Two important things if your following this story. 
> 
> First I was really inspired by the beauty of the places I visited and learning to surf. So the story is going to do a jump. By this I mean like in Out of Sequence I'm going to jump to a future date near the close of the story which is where the next installment will open. It will appear like something bad happened with Harry and Louis. ....... I know! Right? How can I do that when nothing has happened WITH THEM yet! Am I insane? 
> 
> Not to worry. It will come out okay in the end. Promise. 
> 
> Second. Ufcking typos. I'm posed this chapter terribly unedited so whoops! I'll clean it up by the time I put the segment to follow up, but this likely will take days.
> 
> Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed Niall centered smut. Maybe when you get into the next chapter to follow send me comments please! It's going to be a jump, but I'll make it good on the Larry love inthe west I promise.


	19. Mystery boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six months after Harry's return to Cheshire from Bar 3 the family goes on an extended trip to Latin America. Gemma begins to wonder about her brothers melancholy. An unnamed boy in a photograph sparks her curiosity.

"San Juan del Sur where?" Harry asked. 

"Nicaragua." Anne replied.

Harry looked exasperated. He made a motion where his hands floated up along with his shoulders like his entire body was asking the question, "Why?"

*** 

To reach the small Central American town the family had to take a series of flights. The final of three brought them to the city of Manugua, Nicaragua. From this city it was a few hours drive to their final destination on the coast.

A driver shuttled Harry, his sister Gemma, his mum and his step-father Des to the pacific coast community that was popular among surfers but not widely known back home in the UK.

Des decided to do this "vacation", as he originally defined it, six months to the day after Harry had come home from his long rehabilitation in the U.S. 

Six months. Six months and yet in that time, Harry, having been converted into a productive, respectful, polite, non-deviant young man, had also been rendered a person that was best described as fallorned. Adrift. Harry's disposition since his return was the primary reason, Des stated, when he announced his decision that "to get Harry out more, make a big change". 

Indeed. Part of the reason for the family to have this extended stay in Nicaragua was that what had been assumed was just transitioning "pains" of being back home went from days of melancholy to weeks. Weeks of melancholy became months following Harry's return to Cheshire. 

On the positive side, not once had Des and Anne found Harry to have the slightest indication that his old, sexually aggressive behaviors were a concern. In fact, to the contrary, they found Harry to be shy and reclusive. Men didn't drawl his attention. 

Harry's interests were not in the social outings, like was shared by most of his hometown peers, but pretty exclusively he was only committed to his "writing". When asked about what he was writing in his leather journal Harry only described it as "a work in progress. Poetry, song lyrics". He'd quickly add, "It's not good enough to share yet." 

If pressed further Harry would promise to show them the writing "someday", or "when it's ready". He add, "Don't worry! I'm not writing gay smut on ao3 or anything like that!" 

However, there was the one certain thing following his homecoming that was always guaranteed to brighten Harry's demeanor. 

A lighter, more engaging Harry coincided with receiving a phone call from one of his friends from Bar 3. After these conversations Harry would share the latest news about his mates with great excitement. 

Furthermore, after these calls for a few days, until the effects wore off, Harry would seem more connected and happy around his family. He'd delight in sharing stories about day to day of his friends' lives; maybe tying it in with some stores about their time together in the States at the ranch. Most typically he'd have the latest news about Niall's progress at Uni studying sound engineering. Or exciting stories from Liam on the subject of his training for work in fire and rescue. His friend Zayn's world seemed to revolve around art so maybe Harry would regale them about an art opening of some other artist's works that Zayn attended, or Zayn's plans for his own opening. Clearly the common thread was that Harry missed them all and it was palpable. 

Whatever their news about themselves, Harry was always supportive of even the smallest of their accomplishments like he shared some pride in his friend's success. It was like he had nothing of himself but because of the closeness that had developed with his mates from the program he needed something of them to fill his void. 

Bar 3 was known for building community among its attendees. This rare bit of openness from Harry, like something with those friends' successes, was providing a hopefulness for him so his family was patient with his melancholy. 

At first. 

In time the calls pointed out a big difference between Harry and "his brothers" as Harry referred to them. The problem was that unlike his so-called brothers, who had filled their lives with goals to keep out of trouble, Harry seemed to have not done anything to move forward. He was locked in his little leather journal. 

Harry had given up his nympho past, but he had yet to achieve an understanding of what to put in its place. Focus and purpose eluded Harry. 

Gemma, so close to her brother throughout childhood, remained very critical of herself for her failings as the older sister and not being more intuitive about her brother prior to his exile. Moreover she was becoming increasingly devoted to Harry and his full recovery. The long time Harry was away gave Gemma time to think. She had wrestled with why Harry went down a path as a young teen so different than the loving way their mum had raised them. The more time she spent trying to figure this puzzle out the closer she got to some secret affair and emotional scaring that her brother suffered. This made Gemma devoted to Harry, determined to spare him further emotional pain. 

If Gemma didn't know better she would say Harry from Bar 3 was broken-hearted. 

*** 

Maybe San Juan del Sur would be good for Harry. Des had ordered this so Gemma was going to embrace it. 

Gemma went to wake her brother on the first day at their new, temporary home having been the first one to fully explore every luxury their immodest home provided. Harry, in contrast, had slept through breakfast and lunch and afternoon was approaching. Sure, they all were a bit jet lagged from the travel. But this was going to be home for a while. Maybe a month, perhaps two. Gemma was anxious to get her bearings on the world around them. See the town, have a good look at the beach from a view closer than the hillside, cliff-like observatory that the massive home offered. 

Harry was soundly asleep as Gemma entered his room. She sat on the edge of his bed after opening shades and flooding his room with light. She heard parakeets outside as they flew over making their noisy chatter. She scanned the trees that were just beyond the patio and pool area in case the monkeys she saw earlier were still there. She'd hoped Harry would see their primate welcoming party and find it as amazing as she had. 

She got no response from Harry on the subject of the monkeys he'd missed. The light hitting the room made him withdraw under his covers to hide, so Gemma reached under the blankets and tickled his feet. He made a grumpy noise and pulled a pillow tight to his head so she left the bed side to look at what he brought with him for their extended stay in Latin America. 

Most of his suitcases were still stuffed full of his clothes and just lying open on the floor. Unlike Gemma, Harry must have been too tired to completely unpack and settle before bed. It appeared he decided to only remove a few items and placed them on the table near his bed. 

She looked at what it included. There were his favorite trinkets, the necklaces, bracelets and rings he like to wear, and his leather bound diary. Harry had also brought a few pictures. 

It was the pictures that caught Gemma's interest. Aside from a favorite one of the two of them and their mum, the other pictures were from Harry's time in the program in the States. 

In all of these pictures from Bar 3 except one, there were five lads. Gemma's favorite? The odd picture out; a picture of just Harry and only one of his four friends. 

This particular picture was of only Harry and another lad. The two of them were at what looked like a pristine mountain lake. Both were shirtless, golden and sitting on a huge rock outcropping beside the lake with a mountain cliff behind them. Gemma had loved the picture because the backdrop looked so beautiful. As she looked at it for what may have been the hundredth time she realized for the first time that she had overlooked this picture though it was the thing that Harry kept closest to his bedside upon his return. It also dawned on Gemma that Harry never mentioned this lad from the UK. 

Once this occured to her as show aired for Harry to come out,of his cocoon, she considered that this particular lad was in all the pictures Harry had brought. It was the only friend with whom Harry had a picture of just the two of them. They were tightly knitted to each other's side. Then Gemma noticed that in each of the pictures the same lad was always next to Harry, pressing so close it was hard to tell where one body began and the other ended. The lad was smaller than Harry, cute. He had smiling eyes. Gemma thought about how Harry never mentioned him. 

Gemma examined the picture of her brother and the mystery boy closer. She knew which one in the other pictures was Zayn. He was "the model". She knew which one was Liam. He had the sweetest puppy-eyes. Niall? Easily the Irish one of the group. But this nameless boy who had a pixie smile and golden skin, why had Harry never talked about him? Gemma didn't know his name but her brother brought a picture of the two of them all the way around the world like it was something special? 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The notes of the previous chapter describe what I'm doing...not that there is ever really any logical reason for what I'm doing. So comment, if if just to ask wtf?


	20. A laugh carried on the wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Gemma find distractions at a resort hotel where they had a mission. Harry begins to go to the dark side while Gemma learns Harry's "love"-interest has a sickening interest in a Brit named Louis.

Apparently, Des had more than one reason for their extended stay in Nicaragua. 

Unlike Gemma or Anne, Harry was a lesser concern for him. Always with Des it was all about business. Over a dinner of pancakes that Gemma made for her brother, who had no idea of what time of day it was, the family learned the big view of Des' plans. As they enjoyed the pancakes and fresh fruit of varieties rarely seen in the British Isles, Des revealed his primary motivation for the trip.

Harry's face clouded like the strain on one's countenance as they fought to choke back tears. Gemma guessed that when he learned that they would be "stuck in Nicaragua" for weeks, perhaps a month or more the reality put her brother and his broken heart in a trap. Far away from his friends Harry seemed particularly upset that his phone wasn't working. Cut off from the world he was aggitated. Anne asked what was bothering him but Harry could give no reason. He shoved a forkfull of pancakes into his mouth and shrugged.

The mystery boy in the photos; it took travel to a place around the globe for Gemma to understand the significance of a fifth lad, the one person whom Harry had never mentioned to them. 

Gemma had never considered this before but as she reflected back on Harry's behavior since he got back from the States she recalled clues she'd overlooked. Harry wasn't just keeping in touch with his friends from the Bar 3 for sake of their friendship. He was looking for someone. Harry always asked about "him" when he talked to his friends, Liam, Niall and Zayn. "Have you heard from him?" "Did you manage to go by by his house when you went to Doncaster?" This someone was a mystery. 

Des' explanation of their trip diverted Gemma's attention back to the subject at hand. Stuck in Nicaragua.

"San Juan del Sur" Des said continuing in conversation with a disagreeable looking Harry listening with a pained expression, "because one of our small holdings has been investing in the extremely costly venture with a new luxury hotel here. We took it over from a company who was selling debt about 7 months back and sent a man here to handle the opening. Fresh ownership and a new start we had high expectations. This manager was the best, we thought. So highly qualified. Unfortunately we've found he's repeatedly had some short comings. Like his head is not in the game. There seems to be some accounting errors. I decided to handle this personally because Anne said she wanted us to do a family vacation."

Harry pushed his fruit around on his plate and looked out from their poolside table. Beyond the pool where it's edge literally met the tops of trees a forested slope stretched along a steep hillside. The dense forest covered the hill from the home-sight to where the vegetation met beach at the ocean's edge. The palatial hilltop home was in close proximity to the busy town but felt like it was isolated at the edge of where virgin Nicarguan forest met sea. Part of the reason for the lack of phone service, Des explained, was they would need a local provider to get local cell coverage. He assured Harry the wifi would be activated at the house once he and Anne went to town. And they'd get new phones. 

Harry passed on pointing out that's his father was working and it was not really a vacation. He went to the question of their isolation. Sure in the pool looking out it would appear pool met ocean. It was serene and peaceful. But it was a guilded cage. 

"But why, if the problem is at this hotel of yours are we living at this house? I mean it's so isolated. Can't you see better how things are managed by being there, at the hotel?"

Des could be a prick. 

Why else would the answer to that question come in a way of telling Harry and Gemma that they were staying at the house because Des was going to send his kids to go spy on things. The destination catered young people, not many older tourists. Their father wanted to use his kids to investigate for him before word got out that the company had a person in town. 

"Tomorrow the two of you need to go to the hotel for lunch. Tell them you're staying at the Hotel Ana Mar. It was the best hotel before ours came in. Ask them for services that our hotel offers exclusively to its guests. If you can, ask for this from the manager himself. Try to bribe him but be subtle." Des said. 

***

The next day Harry and Gemma entered the stunningly beautiful hotel about mid day and went directly to the open air restaurant with its view of the pools and ocean. 

Gemma was trying to speak in Spanish to the waiter. Her attempt was atrocious but the waiter was being kind. As terrible as her butchering of his native language was the young man seemed to enjoy looking at her. Harry could tell by the blushing and the fluttering of Gemma's lashes that this was mutual. 

Harry allowed the two to flirt as he thought about what weird task had been put upon them. Des had been quite clear that they had to do this. Harry would oblige only because he wanted to get home not because he agreed with Des' tactics.

Harry looked at the hotel's beautiful series of pools that were arranged in terraces and making a grand step-like entry to the beach below. He noticed boats in the harbor were situated removed from areas where swimmers and surfers played. Looking at the boats Harry decided which audacious thing to ask for to meet his father's command.

Harry made it a point to interrupt Gemma and the waiter abruptly rude. If he was going to do this for Des, might as well get on with it. Talking over Gemma, Harry said they were staying down the street at the Hotel Ana Mar, but he heard this hotel had its own privately owned boats. Could one take them out to look for dolphins? And the best surfing instructors were said to be with this hotel, what about lessons? Oh, and did they have any suites available? Word around town was the suites were unbelievable.

Harry's decision to become so bold and obnoxious caught even his sister by surprise. She started to say to Harry that those really were not questions to ask of their waiter. For a minute Gemma forgot this was an act; it's offensive delivery astonished her as much as it shocked the waiter.

The waiter recovered from his surprise at Harry's abruptness quickly. Perhaps because he was so charmed by Gemma. 

"I'm sorry sir. I'm not sure about availability of various accomodations. You can check at the desk or with the concierge. But I'm sure that with the other interests, the boats, free surfing lessons, those things we only offer to our guest inclusive with their reservation. You would have to book a room here."

Harry felt awful. 

The Nicarguan waiter spoke politely with perfect English. 

So politely. 

He didn't deserve to be put on the spot by Harry's rude request. 

Gemma looked at Harry. Something in her expression said, "Let it go. Don't do this." 

Oddly the ugliness of it felt good to Harry. Like an old friend. The habit of using people or making people uncomfortable. He'd learned this was a shield to having an open heart after his first heart break. Then, for a short while, he was cured of it because of Louis. But then Louis left. So...

Harry smiled at Gemma but it was a wicked smile. False. Filled with intent. Then he turned back to speaking to the waiter.

"We haven't decide if we like it here enough yet. We are at Hotel Ana Mar and they are nice. Maybe if we could get a suite here so we don't have to share a room. But m'suggesting for a regular room price, could we get that..."

The waiter eyed Harry with a tinge of aggravation. Then he glanced at Gemma who smiled sheepishly. His expression transformed back to peaceful because of she warmth and he looked to have found conviction to re-double his efforts with Harry for Gemma's sake. "Senor, might I send the manager to speak with you? Perhaps he can arrange something?"

The waiter smiled at Gemma before turning. As he walked off to fetch the manager Harry felt more stupid with the loveliness of the waiter's effort to please in the face of pompousness. Harry tried to hide his disappointment in himself and beamed gleefully at Gemma.

Gemma was quick once the waiter was beyond earshot to point out how wrong this was. 

Harry assumed she meant doing their father's plan. He agree with her. "You're right. It is arrogant and rude. I kind like doing it though. I kinda feel like being an arse for...." 

With that Gemma was quick to interrupt. 

"I'm not talking about our father's plan, Harry. What I'm saying is wrong is what he's making you into and how bad that is for you. Particularly f o r y o u. Don't you see it? You're embracing manipulative behavior like it's okay because it's for business but it is no different if you're being like that for business or to do it for taking advantage of someone sexually."

Gemma was exasperated. She continued. "Can't you see that? Our father sent you to the States to correct your habit of using people. Then he brings you home, and on to here, in Nicaragua, where he will have you replace one type of ugliness with another. It's no better an evil Harry."

Gemma reached over the table and took her brother's hand as she said more softly, "You came back from the States changed. Like something, someone changed you. You were you again..."

As Gemma said the words with her touches soft on the back of his hand there was coalescing of senses. On a breeze with her softness was a sound like something from the recesses of Harry's mind. 

She said "someone changed you" and Harry swore he could hear at that instant a familiar laugh. It was a laugh special to him. One he knew it well. Only this seemed like a dream and it was mixed with the real sounds coming from further out at the beach mixed with the ocean waves. He sat upright with a startle because of an illusion that the laugh was real, carried in on the wind, although he knew that laugh couldn't be.

Gemma was still speaking, continuing to rub his hand with hers. Around them were people happily dining and conversing. Harry's ears listened even though his brain said his emotions were responding to Gemma's words and his mind was playing a trick on him.

"Harry are you even listening to me?" Gemma said at one point. "I said it's like you came back a human again, like your heart found what it needed...maybe...but a little sad....missing someone...are you in love Harry?"

As Gemma finished her question, Harry once again caught the faint sound of the familiar laugh. He was certain this time that this was not in his imagination. 

An audible response to the laugh Harry thought he heard came out of his mouth like it was an answer to his sister's question. 

"It can't be." Harry said with understandable surprise.

Gemma narrowed her eyelids with a searing scowl like only a sister would. "Sure it could be Harry. If you're open to it. I know you aren't sharing everything with us about your experiences in the States."

Harry was trying to listen. But not to Gemma. But he was straining to sort through a literal sea of background noise. That is until he and Gemma heard a sound of throat clearing. They both looked up to see the waiter who'd brought another man to their table. European in appearance, this was clearly the manager, Greg James.

Greg James was different than Harry expected. Younger, better looking, taller. Very tall. Harry lost his purpose of listening for the laugh and drank in the soft brown eyes of this man who was smiling, extending a hand as he was being introduced.

Harry liked him immediately. Something about this Greg James was naturally affable, warm, friendly.

Pleasantries of greeting exchanged the conversation rolled into discussion about common British heritage. Gemma and Harry played their part of innocents. Eventually the cause of conversation and false stories about their trip purpose ebbed. As a gap of silence cropped up, Gemma looked at her brother expectantly. Harry bulked. 

This Greg person was appealing. For the first time since he last saw Louis Harry felt an interest, a stirring. 

Harry sat there looking at Greg feeling at a crossroad. His sister had just nailed it. He was in love. But...Louis left. Not a word.

Across the table from Harry, Gemma made faces as if to say "Well? Are we in or are we out?"

Her query snapped Harry back into the here and now as Greg asked, "So I hear that you have some questions for me?"

"Yes we do," Harry said with none of the pompousness and arrogance that he had used in speaking to the waiter. "We heard there have been dolphins and whales seen by fishermen, who took out tourist who were staying here. We wanted to know if any of your boats could take us out for a tour. No fishing, just looking. Gemma loves whales and dolphins are my favorite."

Greg smiled. It was such a nice smile. "You're not guests here, I was told?"

"No. We're staying at Hotel Ana Mar." Gemma supplied. 

Greg looked disappointed. "I'm sorry. You could book a room with us. Our base rooms are significantly more than anything at your hotel, but guests here, in even our entry accomodations, have full access to all our amenities. The fishing, or boat tours, our sail boats, oh, and we have the best surfing instructors too. All of them speak English and we can accommodate any level from beginner to expert."

Harry had the feeling that as Greg was speaking to them there was an image forming in Greg's mind. He was aware that Greg seemed to keep stealing looks at him. 

Harry recognized the signs of the feelings he was bringing over this man. So accustom was Harry to the effect his beauty had on people that Harry could read the signs. When this man said "surfing" to Harry, he more than likely had an uncontrollable image, of Harry, in swim shorts, wet. 

This occurrence was confirmed for Harry by the way Greg's eyes made the error of a quick stolen glance at Harry's mostly exposed torso. Harry's chest was barely concealed by the sheer, button-down silk shirt Harry wore. Only a few buttons closed it together near his waist. He had necklaces dangling to draw the eyes to skin. Harry saw the body check. It was a thing that happened regularly in Harry's experience.

Skilled at using his appeal, Harry ran a hand through his long curls and smiled his dimpled perfection with a counter offer to Greg.

"Maybe we would do that, but we're paying cash at the Ana Mar and so we have the best room there. No need for credit card securing or all that."

Harry expected Greg to go for the implied suggestion he floated out there. Cash, better to keep things off the books. It was a disappointment when Greg signaled their waiter over and discussed another matter.

"Josè, I'm covering our lunch guests' check personally since they don't have a room with us. See to that okay."

Then Greg turned to Harry and Gemma and said, "So sorry I can't do for you what the Ana Mar has offered. But before you leave here today, spend a few minutes looking around at our piece of heaven. Maybe it will convince you to reconsider another time. Check out our pools. Follow them down to our private beach access. While your there have a drink on me at the beach bar. The surf looks great today, so I think there are a lot of our guests out on boards. See what it is all about. Hopefully you'll be back."

With that Greg excused himself and began to circulate in the dining area making it a point to say hello to a number of hotel guests. He seemed like the perfect example of luxury hotel professionalism. Nothing like the sort who was playing with the business of the hotel for personal gain like Des suggested. 

Harry was relieved a little later that at least his intuitiveness about human behavior was not completely out of tune. The attraction he imagined Greg had for him was confirmed when Harry caught Greg James watching them leave their table to go explore the hotel more as Greg suggested. Harry was certain he spied Greg taking a booty check aimed at his arse, not Gemma's.

*** 

Harry and Gemma wandered past the series of pools behind the hotel which was beach side. One pool was sea turtle shaped with varying shades of intricate, tiny, blue translucent tiles. Another was dolphin shaped, ironically. 

After passing beside four of the hotel's five very different pool settings they made it to the beach where the vibe became much more youthful, surfing, casual luxury.

There was an expansive yet quaint open air bar under a palm-thatched roof. It was shady and had access to the hotel's wifi so many of the guest were laying in hammocks there and busy on devices. Many more sat in beach chairs facing the ocean asleep in the sun. Brother and sister passed conversations muted by sounds of the waves and a music selection playing in the bar that was as Caribbean in its influence as it was Latin and Pop. The two plopped into comfortable chairs facing the ocean and barely waited a second before a bartender came to see if they wanted a drink.

Harry opted for a drink that was light rum infused with juices of fresh ginger root and lemongrass. It was like an Asian tea met a margarita, but without the salt. 

Gemma's drink was a "noni colada". She described it to Harry as having an Asian influence too but sweetly coconut. 

When the bartender checked back to see how they liked their drinks Gemma asked him what gave the piña colada-like drink such uniqueness. His answer made her laugh.

"All the weird drinks on the menu were born from the imagination of a bartender the management threw in here to work one night when we were short of staff. They were trying to find a place for him to fit in. He had no experience as a bartender. And no offense, but he was not, um a local. No habla espanol. We were slammed with business and he didn't understand us. We hadn't done our English language study. It was disaster. It was right after the hotel opened about seven months ago. Also he could not read the recipes which were in Spanish so he just made drinks up all night long."

Gemma listened sipped her drink and envisioned some Asian lad was the inept bartender because of the taste to the drinks and the hint that the inept bartender was a foreigner. Enthralled by their cute story-telling-bartender she kept sipping her drink as he continued the story, "You want to know the funniest part?"

Harry and Gemma were captivated because the drinks were deceptively good, too easy to finish too, too fast. They wanted to hear the rest of the story and order another round of these bizarre drinks.

The bartender, Felipe paused and smiled. "The funniest part was this clueless bartender had made all these drinks up and people couldn't stop ordering them. They were weird but everyone loved them! After that night we had to put them on the menu."

When Felipe came back with another round of drinks Harry asked what happened to the hapless bartender.

Felipe waved his hand with a gesture to say "no worries" as he answered. "He's still here. Like me he's just a relief bartender. He's actually terrible with recipes so we don't have him bar tending a lot. Me and him both primarily work as surf instructors." Felipe looked out at the ocean. "He's out there teaching right now. He's amazing with kids...he acts like one most the time, so purda vida, he works as a beginner's surf instructor. Sometimes when he gets scheduled at the bar though, we just hope he doesn't go too off menu as he usually does. He seems to like...pranks."

Seeing the two had finished their second round of drinks, Felipe asked if they wanted a third. Or some water? Gemma wanted to know what the spice was in the colada. After finishing her third Gemma told Harry that she could indeed detect a "dash of cinnamon and a dust of cardamom, just," that Felipe had said was the spice. 

After awhile, drinks finished, what had become drunken laughing between the sibs yielded to quietly sitting together gazing in silence at the surf. Both were enjoying the alcohol-induced calm.

Gemma watching the waves spotted a child getting a lesson. She was about to point out the student and surf instructor to Harry when Felipe came over to politely tell them his shift was over and he was leaving. Gemma's eyes lit up. Her drinks had taken full effect. She realized Felipe was really cute. He's taken his barstaff shirt off and was just wearing board shorts. A small gold chain that looked seductive was lying against his deep brown skin. His transformation from bar man to surfer dude made Gemma blush.

Felipe leaned to her and offered, "Gemma, you should come surfing with me. I'm off work."

Gemma blushed again and said, "I, I don't know how."

"Good thing that can teach you then." Felipe said. 

Gemma couldn't help the attraction. She touched Felipe's firm arm with her hand. "But I can't leave my brother alone, you see. He tends to find trouble."

Gemma's statement was indeed accurate. She'd forgotten their mission was to push the boundaries and deceive staff. Spy. Gemma's mention of Harry was motivated by not an interest to push the rules, get a favor, but sincere concern for her brother. She wanted to keep him close. 

For the first time Gemma had realized that much of Harry's failure to constructively deal with things was a learned behavior. His broken heart at the hand of his former teacher, some love-loss he was hiding from his experiences in the States, all made more sense to explain his lack of course. For the first time Gemma saw how Des was a bad role model. His expectations were cruel.

She looked over at Harry who was buzzing on alcohol and content to watch surfers in the distance. Whispering to Felipe she said, "My brother is really vulnerable right now. He's hiding a broken heart."

Felipe studied Harry for a second. Gemma saw the way Felipe assessed Harry in detail. Then he whispered to her, "Your brother is very...you should keep him away from..."

***

Felipe had told Gemma keep Harry away from Greg James when he whispered to her at the beach. No reason why, but hours later they were still at the hotel. Gemma had gone to shop for a swimsuit at the fancy boutique the hotel housed. She came out from from shopping having made her purchase and Harry was gone. A conceierge who saw her looking for him gave her a message. Her brother said to tell her "to have fun surfing". And the concierge relayed that Harry would be back later. He was going to get a full tour of the hotel from the manager, Greg James.

Gemma ran to meet Felipe as planned at the rack of surf boards. Panicked and worried she told him about her brother wandering off. She blamed herself for leaving him out of sight while trying of swimwear. Distraught, Gemma was changing her mind about the surfing. She needed to find Harry. Her worry for him was only second to her anger at their father for putting them in this spot.

Felipe tried to calm her. "I'm sorry to make you worry. Your brother is not a child. He'll be fine. I didn't mean to say Greg is some monster. He too, like your brother is all heart broken. You see," Felipe whispers, "He likes, um..um, pretty men. He's been trying to get together...with this boyfriend, his boyfriend he brought here when he came to take over managing and it's not been so good with them. So I warned you because, sometimes I think Greg takes up with young men, you know like a fling, but just to make his boyfriend jealous. But I'm sure your brother knows how to look out for himself."

Gemma tried to take it all in. She was worried, yes. As much as she wanted to consume with worry the fact was Felipe was so sweet and charming. He was caring and reassuring. And he was right. Harry chose to walk off with Greg. Before she knew it she was convinced by Felipe to come with him to learn to surf; they'd find Harry around eventually, Felipe promised her.

One thing Gemma was certain of, if she went home now, without her brother, she'd want to kill her father. So she let the cute surfer boy convince her of embracing a distraction. Surf. Harry would come back.

***

Harry and Greg had gone for a tour. Harry wanted to see the suites. Gemma didn't know it but Harry was feeling emboldened by the alcohol and bored waiting for his sister to try on a hundred swimsuits. Harry saw Greg who was passing by where Harry waited and jumped at the opportunity to play Des' game. 

The suites were impressive. So Harry asked about seeing the boats. They left a message for Gemma and and took a car to the docks. Greg showed Harry the boats and Harry enjoyed flirting with Greg. It gave him a rush.

After looking at the boats they returned to hotel but instead of heading inside Harry requested to see more of the beach.

The sun was getting low on the horizon and Harry didn't notice anything about the hour, the waning sun, or the surfers who were coming off the beach for the night. 

Had Harry been paying attention he would have seen his sister finishing her first day of lessons and leaving the sea happily with Felipe. She walked right past where he and Greg sat but Gemma was on such a high about her first day trying surfing that she didn't see Harry, only Felipe. 

If Harry had been paying attention he might have also noticed someone else. There was a child about nine years old finishing a lesson who was walking a few strides behind Gemma and Felipe. Happily talking to her surf instructor, who she called "loo-loo-boo", they too passed within a few feet of where Harry and Greg sat. 

But Harry, like Gemma, wasn't looking at anyone other than one who he was flirting with. He sat with his back to the place where these surfers walked passed. Harry assumed Greg was entranced with his every word as Harry was on a high. It was the rush of his sexually predatory behavior reinflamed. 

Greg was wearing dark glasses so Harry couldn't see Greg's eyes as bypassers walked carrying surf boards so Harry was didn't notice that there was something distracting Greg. Briefly Greg wasn't really listening to Harry. In fact, he didn't bother to notice that Harry's sister came off the beach and walked by with a hotel surf instructor. Greg was only interested in watching for one. 

Unconcerned about Harry's chatter, half-listening to Harry, Greg watched a little girl who finished a surf lesson walking with his estranged boyfriend who was her teacher as they went to the racks for storing surf boards together. 

Louis, listening to the child, passed within ten feet of where Harry and Greg sat. He noticed nothing as was absorbed with his student. 

*** 

At the racks which held the surf boards Gemma finally noticed something other than Felipe. A surf instructor came along behind them with a little girl he had been teaching. When they got to the rack to put up the girl's board, the instructor struck Gemma as something. It wasn't that he was gorgeous. He was, but that was not it. 

What stood out to Gemma was that the surf instructor was British. 

This surprised her because she didn't expect any Brits teaching surf. And so she was listening to this Brit instructor talking with the girl. Gemma was oblivious to how Felipe had gone off to the side by the surf rack where he was raapidly auguring in Spanish with another hotel employee. The employee was managing the surf station where the parents of the little girl were attempting to settle their bill for their daughter's lesson. 

Gemma didn't hear how the parents had wanted to give a tip in cash to their daughter's instructor, but they were being told that "all of Louis' tips have to be channeled through the hotel" by the employee who is working managing the surf lessons. This subject had Felipe arguing with the other hotel employee, apparently Felipe was agreeing with the parents on the tipping, wanting them to be able to give Louis cash. 

Felipe kept saying in Spanish to the other employee taking care of the fees, "...but the customer wants to pay cash, they are asking to give cash, maybe just once don't be a jerk, let Louis have a cash tip".

It was not obvious to Gemma what they were aurgueng about, why there was the tension between Felipe and the other employee. She thought she should pay attention, though, for her father, because it was something about the subject of tracking cash flow into the hotel, and here was Felipe in the thick of it with another employee. But because she'd totally lost track of time, and it was now dark, she was back to only having concern for where her brother was. She was tired too. Their Spanish was rapid. 

Gemma waited. Maybe this British surf instructor noticed Harry. When the young girl turned to leave with her parents Gemma said to the cute Brit, "Excuse me. But you haven't by any chance seen another one of us" she said, "meaning 'the Queens people' around here have you? I've lost my brother."

This surf instructor who was about Gemma's age smiled brightly at Gemma. "I'm sorry, but who are you looking for?" 

Gemma had a split second hunch she'd seen that smile before. His eyes sparkled mischievously and he looked like a pixie with his hair drying in messy, disorganized tufts. Something seemed familiar about him but she lets the déjà-vous-like haunt pass. Is was probably that he was so adorably pixie-like she thought and replied, "My brother. I'm looking for my brother..." 

Gemma was just starting to say "Harry", intending to describe him, when Felipe suddenly stopped mid-dispute. Felipe hadn't gotten any concession from his co-worker and upon hearing Gemma's conversation going to her brother he turned quickly to interrupt her mid sentence. She never even had the chance to say what her brother's name was, just that, "...who is younger than me, tall, green eyes and..." 

Felipe urgently, pulled her away from the Brit. She never suspected that he only wanted to keep her from talking about Harry. The oddness seemed to her like it was connected to the aurguement. Once they were away from the surf boards' rack and made they're way from beach to the hotel Felipe confessed. 

"Gemma I wouldn't ask him, Louis, about where Harry might be when Harry is with Greg. You see that's Greg's...I mean Louis came here as Greg's..." 

Felipe waited for the meaning of "Greg's" to settle into Gemma's understanding. She was clearly too tired to think from the surfing proceeded by a lot of drinking. Felipe continued, "But Louis was here for a weekend with Greg and things went bad bewteen them months ago. Not sure I know all of it. Just the little Louis said to me and the lots of things I have seen. My eyes explain to me what is Greg and Louis. And it's not right between them."

Felipe took Gemma's arm and lead her to the beach bar where he had stored her street clothes. She went into the restroom to change as Felipe stood sentry at the door of the ladies room to make sure she had privacy while she got into her clothes. She called out a question to Felipe, the behavior of Greg concerning her for Harry's sake.

"What do you mean? What kind of things have you seen? What happened with them? You can't expect me to not worry about my brother now! What were you and that other surf-pro auguring about?"

"I don't know all of it, Gemma. Just that Louis came here, I think to just have a short holiday with Greg. Greg was starting his job, he wanted Louis to stay with him longer. Apparently he wanted a lot from Louis. Affection. Louis only said to me about that, and this was before anyone knew he'd be here this long, he just said that he couldn't give Greg what Greg wanted because he loved someone else. He needed to get back home. Came here to San Juan del Sur by mistake. "

"Then I saw them argue. Greg was on his third day managing the hotel. I think Louis was supposed to fly back to England that day but Greg wouldn't take him to the airport. One of the other people who works here said later, after Louis was still here, that Greg had Louis' passport locked in the hotel safe. Today what you heard me arguing about was what Greg is doing to keep Louis here. Louis can't get tips, cash tips, because Greg knows he's saving for leaving."

Dressed, Gemma threw open the door to the bathroom and said, "Are you fucking kidding me? How in the hell can Greg do that? Why would any rational person go along with that? Isn't it like holding someone hostage?" 

Felipe looked around to make sure the night bar staff were busy. Feeling it was safe to be unheard he confided. 

"Greg told me some things. It was before I got to know Louis and started to see how it is with them for myself. The things he said didn't make sense. He said that Louis was his responsibility. And that Louis had stolen from the hotel. Greg claimed he's trying to protect Louis. Protect Louis."

"Did Louis steal?" Gemma asked while shaking her head over the contradictions. It made her head spin with more worry about Harry. It made her confused because she knew with certainty that her father said Greg had made some skeptical accounting actions. Were they tied to this Louis? 

"Not that I could know but how would he?" Felipe explained. "Louis was here for only a few days as 'the boyfriend'. Then they had some fight. I think maybe because Louis realized he made a mistake coming here and when he told Greg it was bad. Then Greg claimed to some of us here at the hotel that Louis did some things. But I think that only someone like Greg could have been responsible, not Louis, he wasn't employed. So now he lets Louis work here, but says Louis owes the hotel. So Louis wages go to the hotel. All of it. The fight with me and the employee at the beach you saw was because I wanted him to allow Louis to get the cash tip. The parents of the little girl were so happy about their daughter's lessons that they wanted to pay a tip in cash to guarantee the hotel doesn't take a percentage. Some places do. Greg has rules though. The only person on staff who can't get cash tips is Louis. Greg's orders." 

Gemma crossed her arms with resolution. How could someone control another person's finances like that? It was servitude. Or worse. 

Gemma was determined to understand. "So where does this Louis live? When he's not at work where does he stay?"

"He hangs out with friends, people here like him. Sometimes he stays at some friend's who work around town. He's slept at mine many times. Sometimes he sleeps on one of the hotel boats. I've found he was asleep in the hotel chairs out at the beach before. He's resourceful. But every night Greg looks for him. So he moves around." 

Felipe sounded hesitant to completely throw his boss under the bus. With some less encitefulness to his tone he added, "For the rest of us working here Greg is a very nice person to work for. He's just crazy over Louis. I took one look at your brother and I thought well maybe that's trouble. Greg is getting tired of the fight with Louis who only wants to leave him. I think. But Greg's got these lies he's created. Nobody can know. His job is on the line. I heard someone came into town from England who is with the company. Some old guy and his wife were at the wireless store. Rumor is that they are staying out of town at a rental house. But I think Greg knows that means that trouble is here." 

***

Every night it was the same routine for Greg. To Harry, Greg's routine seemed like it was personalized tour offered by his infatuated host. Besides from the moment Harry saw Greg while Gemma was shopping for swimwear to surf with Felipe, Harry had one thought. He was going to play Greg. Or so Harry thought, but to his detriment, Harry kept drinking. While they sat on the beach when the surfers came off as the last rays of sunshine cast their light, Harry drank.

When they toured the boats, Harry drank more. 

They walked the main drag of town, "to tour it", and Harry drank again. Anyone who wasn't drunk could see that Greg was looking for someone but not the very inebriated, overly confident Harry.

Later still with the moon up high, it was back to the beach. Harry and Greg sat in chairs there. It seemed romantic. Greg watched passers by until their numbers thinned to none as Harry drank yet more.

When Harry got an offer from Greg to spend a night at the hotel, share a suite with Greg, Harry was certain he had been cleverly seducing Greg the entire time, not the other way around.

Harry accepted. From Greg's point of view he hadn't seen what he was looking for. Time to move on. 

*** 

A few blocks from the hotel a large man, named Seeki was finishing closing up one of the more rowdy bars on the strip of pubs that lined the beach in town. He was locking the last door when he saw someone had fallen asleep on one of outdoor chairs of the establishment. Part of his job was to run off the drunken. Only then could he get home to his wife and kids. 

Anxious to go home he walked over and tapped the foot of the slumped down form which was buried under a beach towel. From under the towel a voice protested sleepily. 

Seeki recognized the accent and pulled the towel off. 

"Louis? What are you doing here? I told you that you can't sleep here anymore." 

Louis stood up and mumbled something sleepily but he nearly fell over his feet. Seeki caught him. 

Seeki hoisted Louis up and scolded him. The scolding wasn't serious; it warm and affectionate, like it had been done a thousand times before. 

"Okay Louis. Just tonight, but this is the last time. I'll let you inside and you make sure you're out before the boss opens in the morning, yes? I can't loose my job." 

Taking Louis inside he laid Louis on a row of seats that were a bench and put the towel over him. "What happened to sleeping at your friend's house more?" 

"Girlfriend." Louis answered in a tired slur. 

"That's great!" Seeki exclaimed. 

"Yes. For him. Not so much for me. And don't tell me again I need a girl. I told you. I'm in love with a boy, something about his silken mane. Or his eyes. Lips maybe. Or his scent..." Louis was still mumbling when Seeki left the bar locking the door and leaving the mumbling stray alone to sleep inside despite rules to the contrary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone reading this? Okay you are all great to take my other world jump with this story. Thanks! 
> 
> I jump back to the west storyline. Promise. (I love "open at the close".) sorry, 
> 
> This comes to the thing. Don't be mad.,Smut next chapter but it's to the context and not Larry yet...I know!... And might sound like Harry bottoms again. whoops! Sorry again. But since I don't own any rights t making this shhh up it can none like that. For character development/context.


	21. Berry-red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter about how Louis leaves Bar 3 and ends up in in Nicaragua. This update has a brief look at the skeleton of details about Louis leaving the program of Bar 3 and it sheds light on why he accepts and offer to travel abroad attempting to forget about Harry.

It did not take long for Louis to fade off once Seeki let him sleep inside the bar out of pity. All it took was the act of telling Seeki what he looked for in a lover and Louis drifted into his dreams. 

"Silky curls, emerald eyes, dimples, lips meant for sucking cock..." Louis had been saying. 

Seeki didn't need to hear any more from Louis; he had heard it all before. He didn't want to hear anything that came after Louis said "cock" because he had previously learned that tired Louis did this Louis-over-share about some guy he was crushing on from Cheshire. If Louis wasn't so likable the things Louis described about this lover would be uncomfortably disturbing to Seeki's strongly heterosexual sensibilities. Something about Louis though, Seeki just liked him, pornographic mouth and all. So it was that, once again he let Louis sleep on the premises at a bar located just two blocks from the hotel where Louis' self-proclaimed boyfriend was the operator and big man around town. In this small community all the locals had come to their own conclusions about Greg and Louis. 

Greg held the purse strings. It was clear. He was in love with someone who loved another. Greg kept his love trapped in San Juan del Sur like a princess locked in a tower. Greg had made deals with other businesses, gave them perks from the hotel, but in trade no one was to give Louis access to making a plan for leaving the community. 

There were times Seeki thought Louis could have easily prostituted himself and turned the right kind of favors for getting out. But Louis was only going to be touched by his chosen lover. He wouldn't prostitue himself. Getting back his passport was the biggest issue keeping Louis trapped, but even a lift to Managua, a phone line to someone back home would help. Greg guaranteed that couldn't happen. He was obsessed with Louis. 

Working late nights at the bar there were multiple occassions when Seeki saw how easy is was for some men to become similarly obsessed and want Louis so badly. They'd try cornering Louis, chance stealing a feel. Big men, pinning Louis was an annoyance to Seeki on principle. Drinks? Lots of money flowed to the bar on nights when Louis was there if someone wanted to seduce him. Louis just wasn't available to them, drunk or not. If the crowd a the bar was small and Seeki could listen, Louis would talk all night about someone he called Curly. The hurt Louis felt being away from this Curly was palpable in his stories, descriptions, and massively descriptive accounts of sex. 

***

When Louis left Bar 3 so many months ago it was sudden. There was no warning, just an immediate, unexpected release. He had no chance to tell anyone in the program goodbye. Louis' counselor met him when Louis, Harry, Niall, Zayn and Liam returned late on a Sunday from a weekend adventure collecting cattle. 

Pulling Louis aside the counselor simply announced, "There's been a mistake. We got to get you out of here. You're going home immediatley. A car leaving in 15 minutes to is take you to the airport tonight." Louis was taken to gather his things, driven several hours to the airport and that was it. 

Apparently it had been discovered that Louis was set-up. His enrollment in the program was forced and without reason. Well, other than lies, some vendetta. Eventually at home the truth came out. There was an immediate call for Louis to be brought home. 

On the night that Louis left he was bringing his luggage to the car when one of the Australians, Michael, saw him leaving and asked what was happening. Louis had wanted to say goodbye to his friends. His counselor said there was no time for it. He had 15 minutes to pack his belongings but in that time Louis also scrawled out a note as he packed. When he asked his counselor to give it to Harry he was told, "No, against protocol. When you get home to Engalnd you can send that to him from there to his home address if you know it. We can't facilitate these interactions. I can't even mail it for you or tell you Harry's contact info." 

Desperate to make sure Harry knew immediately from him what happened Louis gave the note to Michael who was the only one who saw him leaving. Louis asked Michael to promise to give the note to Harry. 

Michael promised but never did give Harry the note. 

For Louis dreaming about Harry was a habit he'd started the day after he left the States. He believed he'd hear from Harry once Harry got home. So he'd wait.

It was a few days after returning to England that Louis started a job at a coffee shop around the corner from where Greg James worked managing one of the finest hotels in London. 

Greg discovered Louis on Louis' second day at the coffee shop and the two became friends easily. They fell into a habit of running into each other daily after work because Louis was new to the area, missing friends, so he went out a lot to be where there were lively groups of people gathered. 

Greg won over Louis with "let's go out as just mates, not dates" when he revealed to Louis how many people in the neighborhood were talking about "the new barboy at the coffee shop with the sinful body". Convincing Louis that everyone was looking to get a piece of his arse was easy for Greg. Men and women Louis met were frequently, inexcusably were very forward with him, not like Greg. This attention he was getting made it obvious to Louis how Harry had changed him. For the first time in Louis' life, he wasn't looking for a fast hookup and stayed aloof to advances. 

Greg was disarmingly respectful. Louis was clear about being "in love with someone and not interested in casual sex". As many other neighborhood locals made pass after pass at Louis, it was Greg stayed true as a friend. 

Within a few weeks Greg and Louis were beginning to hang out almost exclusively. Louis was experienced enough about men to see that Greg harbored feelings, or urges for him but nevertheless Louis felt Greg was trustworthy. He didn't ever treat Louis like anything other than a friend. A couple months went by. Greg and Louis were on solid terms as friends. 

The night when Greg told Louis he had a new opportunity to manage a hotel grand opening in Central America the news hit Louis hard. 

"So you're leaving then?" Louis asked sounding and looking very off, sad. 

Greg had invited Louis back to his so he could tell Louis "an unbelievably exciting story". This was a shock because Greg had been cold called that morning and hired within a few hours. The company who hired him had an emergency situation. They'd taken over a hotel unexpectedly and the establishment was set to have its grand opening in two days but there was a huge set of improprieties discovered. They fired the management and then had to find someone to take over post-haste. Their head-hunters tapped Greg James as the best upcoming person in the field. The offer was double his salary and all expenses. If he accepted the position he had to leave for the job immediately. 

Greg was throwing clothes into a suitcases fast as he could. For the first time since Greg saw the lad with the sparkly blue eyes and the fabulous bum he was too busy to think about wanting Louis. Usually Louis was in Greg's fantasies a thousand times on a normal day. Now he had to catch a 6 AM flight out of London to New York, then fly on to Managua Nicaragua. By the following night he would be in San Juan del Sur. 

Louis for his part was so knackered he didn't seem to gather that his friend, the one person he'd gotten to know and count on, was leaving potentially for a year or more. Maybe forever. Louis kept studdering out broken thoughts. He revealed pieces of himself and someone he was painfully in love with. 

On the same day that Greg had gotten the offer of a lifetime, Louis had been having a very bad day. The worst of it was finding his mail was a box full of letters he had sent to an address in Cheshire. All were marked to return to sender. 

When Louis left the program at Bar 3 he was not given the opportunity to get any private information about his program mates. That was standard policy. 

Yet Louis also knew Harry had been on track to perhaps leave the program soon because after the fateful weekend he and Louis spent at the neighboring ranch Harry had made drastic changes to the surprise of everyone. To the counsellors and mentors it was like the experience at Bar 3 suddenly clicked for Harry. So never did Louis imagine he would leave the ranch first. 

Since Louis got home ahead of Harry he did a search for the Styles family of Cheshire. Finding an address, Louis wrote letters to Harry every day. He was sure that when Harry got back home Harry would be joyed with the abundance of sonnets, mostly smutty, some hand-drawn dick-picks and love letters. 

Furthermore, on the the day Louis unexpectedly was given his leave, he had also secretly slipped his contact information on a note to Michael for giving to Harry. Certainly, Harry would call him. Louis was sure. 

But the letters all came back. It was as if when Harry got home he sent them as his first act upon returning to Cheshire. Only one had been opened and it was re-sealed. The others looked untouched. 

Throwing the last of his essentials into a suitcase Greg looked at the babbling, drunk-Louis. Greg hadn't been really paying attention to Louis' distraught ramblings over some lover he was waiting for. 

All Greg had been thinking about was his packing until he closed his suitcases. But when he saw how Louis looked laying on his bed like sin reincarnated, Greg faltered. 

Louis was reclined back on Greg's pile of pillows. His strong, luscious thighs were revealed by his tight jeans. Where shirt and pants met some skin was revealed by how Louis was positioned casually. Greg saw the softness of Louis' belly, the golden skin, his nonsensical curves so beguilingly sexy.

Greg swallowed hard. Louis was so drunk. Maybe high. Greg wasn't sure. One thing for certain the "so-called" lover Louis was going on about was not a guaranteed, not committed future partner. Letters were returned. An entire box full of them. Greg heard that much. 

Sitting on his bed to finally address Louis' agony Greg noticed that Louis' nose had some redness to its tip like he was crying before he'd come over. The lips Greg had believed to be a perfect shade of pink were reddened like Louis had been chewing them. Or what they look like in Greg's fantasies about Louis after Louis has been sucking Greg's dick. Mostly Louis looked like a lost kitten. His hair was doing its thing, tufts going every which way. His features so insanely fragile, delicate and small. 

"You should come with me." 

"What?" Louis asked without a clue of what impulse had just popped into Greg's mind. 

"Come with me to Nicaragua. For a long weekend, I mean." 

Louis looked at Greg like he didn't follow Greg's thinking and was shaking his head "no".

"Come on Louis, come with me. It will be fun. I mean what do you have to loose?" 

Greg stood up and began putting his bags together beside the door looking over a list. "I mean if you aren't able to get letters to this guy, there really isn't anything you can do this weekend. You'll have to find another way to contact him, or wait until he contacts you. You said you left your information with a friend. So I'm sure this bloke will get in touch when he can." 

Greg saw Louis had a look of conflict. Like maybe he was actually considering it. 

The wavering Greg saw in Louis made him try a stronger push. Why not? He was leaving. If this guy Louis was in love with came back there would be no chance for Greg if he looked Louis up when the contract job was finished. But ...

"Anyway, he'd have to be a total wanker, a real-user, to be someone who just fucks people for kicks. To have sex with you and not want to be with you? Wouldn't he be heartless?"

It was an epiphany. Greg saw the doubt in Louis' face. With that Greg knew he'd hit the right nerve. He'd said the right thing. 

"What do I need to pack?" Louis asked standing up with a slight alcohol, induced waver to his stance.

Greg risked a bold move to pull Louis into him as he replied. He swallowed Louis' small frame in his arms. For the first time he was allowed physical contact that was something closer to what lovers do than friends. Greg held Louis and drank in the scent of Louis and feel of Louis' tight body in his arms. 

"Don't worry babe. I'll take care of everything. You said you're still using your passport for i.d. because you haven't gotten around to getting your other i.d., right?" 

For Louis this wasn't the way arms should feel when they held him. It wasn't Harry's, but Louis let Greg keep him there and placate him. It was only a trip for a weekend. He'd be back at work in a few days and start again trying to contact Harry. Maybe if he waited until he was certain Harry was released? Maybe the letters came back by mistake? 

"M'hum." Louis said into Greg's chest.

"Perfect." Greg replied. 

*** 

That shade of berry-red? The shade that Louis' lips were made after he'd biten them raw while he was crying about the returned letters. That was the color. Berry/red. Lips that color, like on the on the night Greg swept Louis away with him to San Juan del Sur. 

It had always been Greg's fantasy. Perfect lips, redden and swollen from taking his cock. 

Greg thought about how Louis was so delicate in some ways. Like his mouth, his hands. Yet Louis had never fulfilled any of Greg's fantasies as Greg hoped he would in the gut of rejection. Louis refused Greg from the start. But here was this other berry-red lipped creature, Harry, doing this to Greg. Using perfect berry-red lips to pleasure Greg. More than Louis' Harry's lips were irrefutable, clear evidence of intelligent design; there had to be a god, a gay god. How else could Harry's idealic mouth be explained? 

Okay. Greg had to get focus; not to waste his sensations thinking about Louis'. Forget Louis. Harry's devine lips start out more plump and more berry-red b e f o r e the sucking cock than those of anyone Greg had ever seen. Reality of the sensation Harry elicited was blowing Greg's mind to consider; did he dare look down at Harry given what he was feeling from how Harry was doing this. Did he dare to look?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what is the Harry/Greg James ship? Idk. But this smut will continue in the next chapter but I know some people hate non-ot5 so I will use Greg sparingly. 
> 
> Be warned, Harry is going to bottom because it is smut working for within plot and everyone has a role they are playing. (Concludes my shameless apology for character defamation. This is not for the people who don't like fantasy.)
> 
> This should have explained more about how Louis left. Clue to why Harry is acting like predatory Harry. I like Greg so I might throw his character a life saver in honor of the real mr-Greg-I'm-good-at-flirting-with-Louis-Tomlinson-James when I complete his part in the story. 
> 
> I'm sorry I'm making Des such a hoser. I've done that before. Consider me ill. I grew up NOT having any daddy issues so I don't know why I ruin so many daddies in my stories. Mine was great. Honorable. Kind. I still miss because him and we need more real, great dads so apologies to,all dads of honor.
> 
> Okay so maybe one or two more surf themed sections then back to the Rockies ?..idk because I went off my notes with this whole Nicaragua thing.


	22. Tiny yellow shorts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen to me ...NO ONE DIES! Trigger warning though.
> 
> The story behind Greg trapping Louis is detailed. Felipe plans to introduce Louis to Gemma. Greg and Harry have sex. Harry and Louis are reunited.

The moans Greg made gave way to chanted warnings of an impeding orgasm. Harry popped off and pumped Greg roughly with his hand as Greg spurted generous ropes of cum. Harry was pleased with himself particularly with the way Greg's face changed; orgasmic moans softened and his face looked a bit twisted as if pained. Harry assumed that was a sign of overstimulation and a job well done. 

He bent down rubbing the translucent, gelatinous ropes into Greg's skin and kissed Greg. He was certain Greg would find the sensation of wetness from the leaking knob of his stiff cock a sign. Harry's ways of saying, time for fucking.

They kissed and Harry felt that bit of disconnect. Something to the kiss was wrong. Like the way one feels when...well, when a relationship is over. Or not going anywhere. Like the sex has no meaning. Darkness, hs old friend. 

This was a little unsettling to Harry. He thought it would be easy to resume his games he played, his toying. This emptiness though; it felt awful. Harry pulled away from their kiss and sat back on Greg's thighs to look at Greg' face.

Greg was so expressive. And kind-looking. Something about his brown eyes said he was a compassionate soul. 

But what stood out to Harry was that something about Greg that was not right. Something was distracting in Greg's head and it was visible to Harry by the writing on Greg's face. Harry could see that by the expression. 

First hunch Harry guessed that the disconnect was his aggressiveness with Greg. Maybe he was too pushy, Harry thought, and that was putting Greg off. The 'compassionate soul' thing he saw in Greg clued Harry's intuition that Greg was not so different than, say Liam. Liam was the type of person to fall in love and obsess, maybe hold himself back though, even if it hurt. Maybe, Harry thought, he should care, back off. After all, if Greg was an inner-puppy at heart like Liam...but then Harry's pain pushed him on. 

Harry remembered. Caring. Right, caring is what he did with Louis. He cared so much from when he first laid eyes on Louis that without having touched with Louis there was this power over Harry's heart. The power Louis held made Harry nauseated for want of Louis.

But where did that get Harry? Louis left. Harry wondered. How long did Louis he known he was leaving that day? He'd not told Harry or anyone else. Harry knew a couple weeks after he started making positive changes that his counsellors were starting to give Harry the incentive of a planned release date. So how long did Louis know he was leaving in a record short time the program? Was that why Louis lied about his offense which brought him to the program? 

The temporary reflection about Louis ended when Greg took Harry's face in his hands. He strummed a long finger over Harry's lips like he was admiring them. Harry chose this with Greg so he was going to emerse himself back into this. 

This.

This thing he was doing.

And, Harry thought, there was a lot of Greg to do. Long legs. Lots of cock. His skin was white enough that Harry wondered how someone living in this part of the world could maintain such whiteness. 

Louis was never "white" he was always so...

"Stop that!" Harry snapped at himself silently inside his head and fearing momentarily that he'd said it out loud.

Harry ran his hands over Greg's white skin and thought of nice adjectives to describe the skin. It wasn't...

No. It wasn't. 

But it was what he had underneath him.

Then Harry listen to Greg telling him how amazing that felt, praise, praise, praise. Harry had heard that from all his victims. 

Apparently Greg had been talking to him the entire time Harry's mind was aloof and wandering. As Greg exclaimed of Harry's dick-sucking supremacy Harry slid his hands under Greg and brought them to the buttocks. Both their combined weights were pushing Greg' bum into the bed under them. But...

Hearing Greg's dialogue faded from Harry's consciousness again because of what he held in his hands by cupping Greg's bum. It communicated details to Harry. It was something less that Louis' again, like Greg's skin. 

Experience taught Harry that even when Louis was on his back under Harry the feeling from reaching and cupping Louis' arse was unreal. Louis' bum was just insanely full. It even bounced with the lightest of slaps because it was just so...

"Fuck!" Harry said. This time it was clear and definitely aloud. His annunciation suggested it was an exclamation for pleased sensations with Greg in his hands. Wonderment maybe. Surely Greg would interpret it that way. But Harry had to stop before he said a stream of more "fucks" because no, it was not Greg. It was not wonderment. Harry was not responding to this man's body. Greg's body was wrong. Not bad, just wrong. The realization that his brain hijacked him into thinking about Louis' arse instead of Greg's infuriated Harry. 

But while Harry was wrestling with an internal demon that was Louis, Greg was doing his own thinking of conflict between here-and-now and desires tied to another.

How ironic was it that Greg's pained-face as he came down from his orgasm was caused by his own Louis-induced-problem. Same as Harry's, although for Greg it was emotions of experiences unfulfilled. Passions unrequited.

Greg shifted. He wanted to gracefully move for a couple reasons. First he wanted to move so Harry wouldn't see his facial tell-tales of conflict. For so long he'd wanted Louis that it seemed that the pain of not having Louis was likely to be written on his face. 

Secondly, Greg wanted to sort out their, whatever they were, he and Harry because Harry looked like he desperately needed release very, very soon. Some precum glistened in the slit of his knob. 

Greg's shift brought him up beside Harry and he stayed positioned purposefully. They hadn't defined themselves prior to this seduction unfolding. Harry had simply jumped into this so very easily after touring around for hours and drinking excessively the entire time. It was almost like Harry had something to prove. This could have been off-putting. Why would someone as gorgeous as Harry be so into Greg when they just met? And the day long drinking? Greg considered Harry might not be accountable for his actions. 

However, having been denied so many times by Louis, Greg wasn't going to question Harry's motivations. In the absence of knowing Harry, the hope was that exploring, questioning touches would sort them out. Who is doing what? Top or bottom?

The two men sat beside each other and each with their legs extended along the bed in opposite directions. Their torsos were twisted toward one and other. Sitting like this they began to kiss again, touch, explore and be explored. 

Greg took Harry's erection in hand to say, "I'm going to help you with this."

Harry touched Greg as of to say, "Lets see how quickly we can get this hard again."

Secretly neither man wanted to give any indication they were just half into their game.

Greg began to tell Harry how beautiful every part of him was. Something about his words were clues, first signs that Greg was intending for Harry to bottom. 

Harry took his time with responses letting Greg work a little harder. If he had his choice, Harry would be the top most of the time. Most of the time, but not always. 

Once when Harry and Louis were together, Harry went so as to stop in the beginning foreplay with Louis to ask if Louis wanted to top. He remembered they had been sitting on a beam high up in the rafters of a barn. They had hidden there strategically because Louis knew all the best places for scuttling seekers. High over the barn floor they were groping each other as they waited for people working to finish clearing out of the barn and go for dinner leaving them alone in a private place. Once the coast was clear they were going to drop down from their perch and use the loose pile of straw under them to enjoy a pre-dinner round of sex. 

Harry broke off his kiss with Greg because their position drug up that memory. It was of one and only time when Harry offered to bottom for Louis. Louis lost himself in laughter at the offer. He was laughing so much that he fell off the beam. Despite landing on a pile of deep straw the wind was knocked out of him. After that Harry decided never to mention the option of bottoming to Louis again.

So. 

Back to reality and being with Greg. Touching, kissing, negotiating without words. 

He and Greg resumed kissing but Harry remained distracted. Harry's thoughts drifted to thinking about who he'd bottomed for the most other than his first.

Ah, yes. That was Liam. 

Just thinking about Liam made Harry feel a tinge of phantom pain. Memory. Always prep well before taking that one.

Using thoughts of Liam helped push wanting the feel of Louis far enough away that Harry decided to go as he started this. Go on with Greg. 

It was the old him. Harry who uses-the-sex-as-conquest-predator who initiated this. Greg clearly wanted him when he brought Harry back to the plush suite, but Harry was the driving force all evening. Feeling Greg once again becoming fully engorged in his hand Harry decided he could take the role of bottom. The title implied a false negative of who is master and who is slave; Louis taught Harry that. 

For now it really didn't matter to Harry. He just wanted to feel something. As he shifted, positioning himself with a wiggle of his bum to signal he was good to go he thought how nice it would be. Use Greg to fuck himself into an exhausted bliss. Then he'd tear Greg's heart out by showing no interest when Greg tried to arrange for something more over time. Harry would show Greg that he tired of Greg quickly. Take his heart. Leave him dust. 

Harry wasn't sure how many days, maybe weeks he'd play this game. But it would be a game. He'd spend hours planning ways to make Greg eventually feel valueless. As Harry conjured his plan, Greg was talking lover's talk to woo Harry unsuspecting and unaware that Harry was tricking him into giving Harry his heart. 

Then.

Then, Harry thought. 

I'll just leave. Dust.

***

Louis woke inside the bar, on the bench and cold. 

It was so hot most of the time in San Juan del Sur but in the early mornings with large ceiling fans running it could be cool. It was always that morning coolness or the sounds of birds that woke Louis. Those thing, and usually, that he was sleeping on borrowed turf. There was no warm cuddles to wake to. No breakfast being cooked for him in another room while a cup of tea sat waiting beside the bed like he had wished he'd share in his fantasies. Nope.

Waking in Nicaragua was not like waking had been on a few blissful mornings he'd had while in the mountain of the western U.S. Not like at Wiil's cabin. Not like at the alpine lake.

Louis stood, achy from the hard sleep-surface. He stretched and made his way to the bar's toilets. He splashed some water from the sink on his face as he washed his hands. Looking in the mirror at his face he knew that it was more tan and thinner than normal and he tried to decide. When he went back to the hotel beach bar where he kept hidden his very few possessions like his toothbrush and razor, should he shave today? Or add should he add another day of scruff? 

Looking at himself Louis asked aloud, "Shave or not?" Originally this quandary was born out of the idea that not shaving would make him look more manly, less pretty. The kids he usually taught to surf would refer to him with their parents as a man, not a boy, if he had some obvious facial hair. Ironically, and to the contrary, he'd have more adult men say they "liked the scruffy-twink look" if he had the scruff because they "thought that was the prettiest". Usually that comment came out of a mouth that he was struggling to push off himself as he was being pinned to walls or trapped between two aggressors as one was nuzzling his scuff. So the daily dilemma; shave or not? 

A few minutes later Louis was walking down the beach toward the hotel. The only living thing he saw were the shore birds and a few crabs. He didn't have any surf lessons for early. Most days he like to wait and see if any new guest arrived and be ready to snare unexpected work. Unlike the local Nicaraguan surf instructors who had a relaxed freedom, Louis was always struggling to find ways to buy his. 

Louis was nearing the beach bar and the storage rack with the surf boards when a car pulled up like it was dropping someone off without going too close to the formal hotel entrance. It was Felipe who got out of the passenger's side. Louis could see the driver was a woman. A fair-skinned woman. Did Felipe hook up?

Louis and Felipe made it to the beach bar at the same time and he started grinning like the Cheshire Cat when he realized Louis saw him get out of the car.

"Not my business." Louis said. He waved off and avoided eye contact to emphasize 'no judgement'.

"No. It's not."

It was silent for a minute. They both went in to the workers storage cubbies and we're getting ready for the day.

"So Felipe, do you have a surf lesson first thing?" Louis asked innocently.

"Alright then..." Felipe said like he knew Louis was fishing. "Yes. She dropped me off and she'll be back in a little while. And I do this early because, no, she's not a guest here. I'd rather not have it get out. Not that I think it's any different than what Greg is do..."

Felipe stopped. Louis had a toothbrush in his mouth and went to spit out the paste as Felipe caught himself and looked visibly mortified for almost saying something. Something about Greg doing something.

The meaning of it Louis assumed wrongly. He thought it was not that Felipe was protecting him, but rather that Felipe was insulting him. It was a shock because Louis had always believed Felipe was one of the people who didn't buy Greg's propaganda. Felipe was his one trusted work-friend, so he thought. 

Louis' face showed the hurt and Felipe struggled to get out a quick explanation. "I dint. Didn't, it's not. You...you have nothing to do with what I was...I. nevermind."

"Nevermind?" Louis said rinsing out the paste and spitting the rinse deliberately hard. 

Felipe was conflicted. He couldn't say that he believed Greg had cast Louis off and was fucking the stunningly gorgeous brother of the girl Felipe had just slept with. He caught himself when he said "Greg" intending to protect Louis from that information, and yet, in doing so it implied that Felipe had some secret loathing of Louis that he'd been hiding. Felipe knew Louis was barely ever able to know who was on which side. The smart people, the ones who valued their jobs stuck with Greg. But there had been a few who had started as Louis-supporters. Eventually almost all had flipped to Greg's side. He made it lucrative. The switch seemed to go with promotions. Or better shifts. Or flat out cash bonuses. Felipe knew he put a knife into Louis by seeming to betray him. 

Louis stood there and shuddered. Felipe's heart dropped. Felipe's friend looked so destitute. 

"Louis. Louis, it's not what you think."

Louis turned his back and pulled on a swim shirt. His posture said he was hurt and Felipe knew that was why he wouldn't look Felipe in the eyes. When Louis turned back to Felipe he had hid his eyes behind his dark aviators. 

"What I think doesn't matter Felipe. It's what everyone else here thinks. I know that."

Louis walked past Felipe hitting shoulder to shoulder letting Felipe know it wasn't cool between them. He didn't go far. Like how could he? Where could Louis go?

Outside the beach bar Louis brushed sand off a louge chair and plopped down onto it. So many times over the previous months Felipe had arrived for work early only to see Louis sleeping on these chairs having been there, most likely, all night. Or at least he'd moved there in the early hours when no one would bother him. Several times Felipe approached Louis to wake him and found Louis was sitting there awake, shivering and bleary with fatigue. At least now the sun was up and Louis wouldn't be cold.

Felipe got an idea. He went to pull out Louis' favorite board from the rack. He took it over to the chair and dropped it beside Louis in the sand.

"Hey. You have very right to not trust me or anyone else. You can be mad. But I didn't mean what you thought I was going to say. I've seen things with you and Greg, not everyone here has. But I have seen the way things are. So I'll tell you what. Later, after that girl comes back for her lesson I want to you to watch us. Watch the lesson and look for us taking a break out there sitting on our boards like we're just waiting for better waves. That's when I want you to paddle out to us, where no one working here who can see or hear what is said. I want you to meet her. Not going to say why, but you have to stop being an arse and thinking like I'm your enemy. Do like I say. I have an idea."

Louis had his eyes closed but he could hear the sincerity in Felipe's voice. 

He opened his eyes when he knew Felipe had walked away. He nonchalantly watched Felipe taking two boards out. One would clearly be the girl's. Felipe began putting fresh wax on it while waiting for her.

Louis noticed Felipe had also dropped a towel beside his chair probably while he was sitting with his eyes closed ignoring his friend. Clearly, Felipe was taking care of him. Louis pulled the towel up so it concealed much of him because he still felt cold as the sun was not very high on the horizon. Thinking about Felipe's instructions, Louis shouted over to him. 

"What kind of idea?"  


He had to shout Felipe's name and repeat his question. But then Felipe shouted back an appealing incentive to comply.

"That girl. She's British. I think she could be someone who could help you. She's from some town in England... Cheshire."

It was enough that Louis would have jettisoned himself out of his chair and run over to Felipe immediately. But right then Louis heard Greg's voice behind him. Sitting as Louis was in a long beach chair with the back upright and tucked under a large beach towel there was little chance that Greg had seen him. Instead of going over to Felipe to ask more about the girl Louis slumped further down, staying hidden and listened. 

Behind him at the surf boards Greg was talking with the hotel employee who was in charge of maning the station where the rack of boards were. This was the person who could call in more instructors, book lessons, issue out the boards. He handled tips. Louis' tips. He was in Greg's pocket and a flagrant arse. 

Greg coming so the "surf shack" had always meant one thing, that he was looking for Louis. Louis was certain that today the employee Greg was talking to came to work after he had sat down. In his hiding spot, the guy probably didn't know what to tell Greg about where Louis was. No matter how many times Louis said he'd rather live off the streets than lie one night in Greg's bed Greg continued to try to convince Louis. 

Louis scrunched down more into a tiny ball and listened. He couldn't hear the conversation behind him well but he heard a little of it. Enough of it that it was surprising. It was not about Louis. Greg was reserving a couple boards for later in the morning. In fact Louis thought he heard Greg say that he, Greg, was giving someone a surf lesson himself. 

This amused Louis. 

Greg James on a surf board was like a giraff on a surf board. The image was funny. Thoughts of a giraffe giving surf lessons filled Louis with an amused coziness that made him sleepy. As the sun inched higher in the sky and the warmth showered on Louis, he dozed off. His last thought was something about that silken mane. Harry. The first time they made love. 

***

There are times dreams mold into your reality. And reality into your dreams. 

Later, it was so much warmer. The beach chair was soft unlike the bench Louis had slept on. Coming out of a dream, Louis woke with sounds from the surf merged with his lingering dream. When he first heard voices carried on the wind his mind said "it's in the dream." 

Slowly, Louis woke fully. He tossed off the towel and sat up a little. His brain seemed more awake and his stomache told him he was hungry. He got up from his chair and surveyed options. 

Beside him was the board Felipe laid there for him and its reminder made him scan for where Felipe and this girl were. 

Anyone who worked the surf everyday could pick out those they knew easily. Also they could see from a distance how the challenge was going for new surfers. Tides changed on a twice a day cycle but people were habit formed creatures. In his study of how to avoid Greg Louis had learned to be unscheduled and hard to predict. Usually the only way Greg could find him was to come to the beach or the bar when Louis was scheduled. But Louis could pick the predictable, precise, methodical Greg out in a crowd or surf from a mile away. He could pick out his friend Felipe too. 

Felipe didn't have to hide and was very much a creature of habit.

Louis looked out to the surf searching where Felipe liked to be in the cove with a new, adult-aged surfer. He saw Felipe and a woman. It looked like they were having fun. Louis could see that Felipe had an unusual level of "familiarity" with this student. He touched her a lot between her attempts to catch a wave and get on her board. Felipe must have had a great night, Louis gathered. Even from afar she seems into him too. Touching him, laughing more than surfing. 

Also obvious to Louis was Greg and "his student". They must have passed Louis when he was sleeping. The man with Greg looked long-legged too, and a bit like Bambi when he tried to get on his board. No, actually. A lot like Bambi. In bright yellow, tiny swim shorts. 

Louis looked back at Felipe. Then he glanced back in the direction of the two men and shook his head with disgust. It forced him to look back at Felipe. Louis couldn't stand to watch how inept a surf instructor Greg was. 

***

Prior to coming to Nicaragua Louis had never surfed. Greg had. In his short, successful career as a hotel manager he'd worked at a few of the best hotels in the world. A stint in Hawaii followed by a year in Cape Town had provided Greg opportunities to surf. 

Greg loved it but he was never really that good. 

How was Louis to know this when Greg offered to teach him?

When they arrived to San Juan del Sur months ago a part of their immediate breakdown was how much Greg wanted to push everything with Louis. Louis woke following twenty-four hours of travel having started it drunk and continuing to stay that way until they reached the surf town.

He was knocked out from emotional exhaustion, fatigue and consumption for another twelve hours. In that slumber he felt Greg touching him and kissing him. Promising him things. Greg was so excited about what he had brought with him that he never expected reality would be a hard wake up call when it hit Louis. Along with the hangover. 

Louis' immediate panic about an impulsive decision to go around the world with Greg made Greg try even harder to placate Louis. As soon a Louis felt less gutted and hung-over Greg wanted to win him by using the beauty which was truly spetcaular of San Juan del Sur. Show him the adventures at hand.

Greg decided to teach Louis to surf. 

It was a big mistake. 

It wasn't that Louis didn't learn it fast. He was remarkably very quick and smooth. Some skiing, recent skills he'd learned riding horses about balance came in handy and he was able to ride small waves with one lesson. The second day he was killing it. 

The second day surfing success came with some hard realities setting in for Greg James, however. 

Maybe if there hadn't been two consecutive nights of their romantic long weekend sucked up with Louis being drunk and standoffish Greg would have been okay with the attention Louis was getting on the beach. Unfortunately, Louis really did get a lot of attention. 

It started when they went to surf and the employees all took a liking easily and instantaneously to the boyfriend of their new boss. 

Louis' appeal would have been fine for Greg if they all were like many who said cute things. Things like how they wanted to "adopt Louis" because Louis was "smol" and funny, and pretty and, and...

But a large group of them were just a little "too" into Louis in that other way. What was Greg thinking, he asked himself after carelessly letting people watch as he ran Louis through the drill again on second day surf lesson to remind Louis what the steps are. What was Greg thinking, he asked himself after the crowd formed. 

Okay. So he was thinking, correctly, that before hitting the waves a practice on the beach sand helps develop timing. With no real waves to add to the challenge of learning, the surfer lays belly down on their beach-supported board. They do a practice of paddle, paddle, paddle pretending that they are on the board in the water. Next they have to push up; literally do the arm part of the push up. And the last step is to snap their entire body into a stance with one foot forward and one back, lined up correct and each foot on the right place of the board. In the actual water this all needs to be done quickly in time with the wave. It's so simple, right? Three things. It's so simple and yet so hard to do three things on a wave and no sandy beach for forgiveness if the learner's foot is misplaced. On the beach if you drag a foot and try to push off ground to stand it's okay. Feet in the wrong spotting the board? Also okay. Not so however, when there's only water under you and yours surf board. 

So again, what was Greg thinking?

Louis had the steps to getting up on his board down on day one. The quick refresher of the three step process on day two of was all just for assurances that Louis remembered. As a crowd of Greg's employees were gathering to watch it was initially flattering to Greg's ego. So he didn't discourage it. 

This was HIS boyfriend. He was delighting in showing Louis off. Never mind that Louis was there with no promise to Greg that they were anything. Nevermind that Louis had refused Greg in bed. Greg's fantasies were just running away. 

The crowd seemed nodding like to acknowledge to Greg about how sweet Louis was, but then it dawned on Greg. 

Wait. Oh no. They were nodding how sweet Louis was.

Watching Louis repeat this drill where his arse was on prime display as he laid bum-up on a board pretending to wait for a wave, paddle, push up, feet to board. His sweet arse...everyone was looking at it. 

Men were in a circle around them and encouraging these drills, repeated in a friendly fashion, right? But as Greg looked closer he saw their hungry stares. He saw their hands adjust themselves. He saw one of his employees turn and have to literally walk away because his dick had fully tented his swimshorts. And this group was smiling about an inside joke with each other and whispering comments they didn't share for Greg to hear. 

Testosterone filled the air and Greg snatched Louis up and took him into the water. From there that day got even worse. Greg was possessive and watchful.

***

Louis kept a watch for change in action by Felipe and the woman and tried to not think about Greg and the person he was teaching to surf. It still stung how careless Greg was when he took Louis out surfing. Louis wouldn't forget. Greg put him at risk a couple ways. He was an idiot. 

And yet it looked like Greg had forgotten what happened, Louis observed when he glanced Greg's way. 

Inept Greg. 

Louis looked back to Felipe. Louis took his board close to the high tide line and stood waiting for the que, board under his arm. As soon as Felipe and the girl showed signs of taking a break and sat on their boards like they were selecting better waves he would go out there to join them. She was British. Maybe he could give he a message and his family back home could get in touch with him. She was from Cheshire... 

He saw what looked like a decision by Felipe and the girl to take a break but out of the corner of his eye something drew his attention to the end of the surfing waves zone. 

It was Greg. Greg and his boy. 

The thing that drew Louis' attention was the drift Greg that and his student kept doing over the water. 

All the surfers knew stay to the center of the cove. The edges were rocky. Rocky and there were mores. If someone hit them with a board... 

Sure enough Felipe and the Brit were waiting for him. But fuckingsackofshit, Greg had his boy up on a wave entirely too close to the wrong place in the cove. If he rode the wave far, he was headed into rocks. 

Louis dropped his board and took off running. He was in the water and swimming within a second of seeing the yellow-short-boy eject. When Louis looked up once for bearings he saw Greg seemed to be looking in panic. 

Louis tried harder to continue his swim in the water using a sense of place or something of an adrenaline-driven, innate calling. Everything coming into the waves at the rocks would surface in a pool their pattern created. Louis made it there fast k owing this from his endless days working in the cove. 

Louis thought he heard others coming after he reached the surfer and he was glad because the person was face down in the water like a floaty toy. He was motionless except for a gentle ebb and flow that was created by this shore side pool that the rim of rocks formed. Louis pulled the body to face up and swam on his back with the limp form in one arm as he took them to shore.

Pulling the body on shore Louis fell to his knees to perform standard CPR for a drown victim. 

They say your mind play tricks when you see your first lifeless body. It's a response of the human brain to a shock because death is always a shock. 

Louis told himself it was that. This wasn't h i s Harry. His mum was a nurse. She had told Louis before about the shock. It happens to doctors, nurses, rescue workers. 

No. This wasn't his Harry.

His lips went to the mirage and he continued CPR. Behind him he heard voices on the beach yelling. 

Greg's voice. The voice of a woman with an accent like home. And Felipe. They all yelled "Harry!" 

This wasn't his Harry. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can tell I'm vexed by Louis' arse in surf clothes and Harry's legs in those tiny yellow swim shorts.


	23. Naughty little things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has shifting timelines too. It opens in Nicaragua, goes back to memories of Bar 3 for a look at Larry smut. Major plot point is that Harry is rescued by Louis.

There's a feeling when you break the interface of consciousness...

Things are not clear.

It's a moment when fairies live in the human world, sprites play their tricks. Magic bends reality.

Harry felt fingers on his face. Louis' fingers? They were holding him so delicately. 

The touch was like a feather at first. Then they began flowing, so gentle like a ripple in water. 

This touch which had begun lightly on his cheekbones caressed down with finishing sweeps brushing over his lips.

A sudden violence interrupted these dreamlike sensations; Harry's body jerked involuntarily from something completely unlike like the sweetness he had been drifting subconsciously in. Something, or someone, compelled him to roll to his side. His cheek touched the cold, course surface under him...sand? 

From his chest it exploded, burning flames of liquid. Harry coughed up the sea until his body ached from it.

His head seemed to sear once the water finished its evacuation. He closed eyes to strain against the force of a brightness of light which heighten that pain. 

He heard a whisper of his name, "Harry?" 

The whisper. The voice soft and familiar. 

Harry tried to reach for it. Maybe he couldn't grasp what wasn't real because again, it sounded, "Harry?" That his name was still only a whisper, made him ponder; how does one touch a sound? He tried to solve the riddle, but try as he may Harry couldn't orient where to reach for. His body failed his command. The soft voice began fading away from him as he felt a falling sensation into blackness. 

***

"Harry?" 

"Harry?"

There was some light pressing into Harry's eyelids and the feeling made him squint the lids tighter. He didn't want the light. The light bought with it pain. 

His mind told him he'd heard his name called before as he fell into the darkness. It was Louis' voice that called him. In small bits he remembered that he felt an awful pain, then he vomited molten sea. It was Louis he heard when the darkness took him.

This voice which was now saying his name was Gemma's. Harry didn't want to come to her from his sleep. He wanted to find the place somewhere between the pain and the dark, the place where he heard Louis. Where was that place? A dream, a memory? Harry didn't know but he wanted to be there. 

"Harry, it's okay to go back to sleep. It's okay baby. I just want you to know I'm here. You can relax, let the drugs work and you'll feel better."

Harry stopped straining to keep his eyelids closed and found in so doing that the pain was less. Maybe he was making his senses hurt because he tried so hard to press out the world. 

Most certainly he was someplace comfortable and soft. What did Gemma say? To relax? To sleep? That seemed good. His body and his brain seemed two different places, sort of not really connected, and both were heavy, sluggish and tired.

Sleep. It was okay. 

Sensing there was a pillow softness enveloping him and warmth covering him, Harry relaxed. He could hear Gemma whispering as if she was standing close. Her words he couldn't make out. There was a man too. She was whispering and the man made only a few infrequent comments like maybe he was agreeing with her. Just listening. "Um hum", Harry heard the man say. 

Is that Greg? Harry asked himself as he rolled over and pulled a blanket with his move. The shift put the cover over part of his face it took all his effort To make the move because his body seemed leaded down. From his slight cocoon he chanced opening his eyes and he saw he was in a bright room that he recognized as the suite he and Greg had shared. There was part of a woman's body in view, and a man's. From the perspective of seeing only the middle third of their forms he knew indeed that it was Gemma and Greg whispering to each other at his bedside.

What happened?

Then he realized his movement made other sensations start. There was something like tingle. Yes, and something like pain. 

Oh right. Harry remembered coming up to stand on his surf board as Greg told him and suddenly he was facing a wall of rocks. Then it was pain and black.

Harry closed his eyes because keeping them open seemed too hard. Once closed Harry had the sensation of slipping into a dream. The onset of this dream was so fast it didn't seem possible; his brain was teasing him. It said he wasn't asleep yet Harry knew he had to be.

How else could he get the scent of Louis and the feel of Louis' body coming to press into his exposed back created by his shifting positions in bed? It had to be a dream. Some deception telling him that an arm slid along his waist. And he even dreamed that a warm breath kissed the back of his neck. It was such a perfect dream that Harry let sleep have him. He wanted to dream more of this dream that seemed to be part of his wakefulness. Like a dream within a dream where he was in Greg's suite. Where he heard his sister assuring him. He even remembered the pain, he'd swallowed much of the sea. But all this awareness had to be an illusion, some phantom game of the dream conscious because blending together was past, hints of Louis, into his transient waking. 

Transient wakefulness. In it Harry had that déjà-vous. It took him back to the memory of the first time he slept with Louis... 

*** 

The first time Harry and Louis slept together it was literally just that. Sleeping together. It was when they were at the old man's ranch following their night in the storm, looking for Niall, Louis' horse going down in a mud slide. That night lead to Harry waking with a feeling like he had now. Louis was wrapped around him with Harry being the little spoon. 

Sleep after sex, Harry would learn in time that he and Louis always would become a tangle of legs and arms, backs pressed to chests, or chest to chest, bodies on top of the other's. It was like they were newborn kittens; not only able to sleep together in a clump, but actually needing to do it. 

Harry wondered what drugs had brought him to a favorite memory, any memory of Louis, it felt so real. But why that? Why something so completely innocent like them waking from sleep a tangled mess? Why not some other first? Like the first time Louis sucked him off? Or the first time Louis made Harry watch as he fucked himself with his fingers? Or the first time Louis rode him. Or the first time bringing Louis into tears because the l o v e m a k i n g felt t h a t good. Why this first though? 

Maybe Harry needed to create an illusion of the sensation of koala-cub-Louis clinging to the little-spoon-Harry because of his pain. It was a comfort memory his mind needed to conjur. One of Louis pressing up against Harry's body always created a feeling of being home. 

Contemplating the why of that feeling took Harry back, in his dream within a dream, to how this bonding began. 

Their official post-sex bonding position was established as soon as the sex began. The sex began the day after Louis made like Spider-Man to sneak into Harry's room to pass Harry a note. The note told Harry that Kyla was setting them up for a chance to be together. 

That day. The first time Harry and Louis made love, that day was unforgettable, it was terminated with an extended essential post-sex recovery period that included Louis wrapping Harry like a blanket although the sun that covered them was quite warm. 

Harry had gone to do his assignment that day with the note from Louis tucked into the pocket of his tight jeans. He went through the motions of his work with a perceivable level of distraction and disinterest. He was waiting to be redirected. The note from Louis said, "Kyla is planning on being sick tomorrow...eight lesson kiddos -plus me- for a riding lesson..." 

A mentor finally came by to find Harry. To tell him they needed him to go fill in for Kyla teaching riding lessons. Harry did his best to act surprised. 

Walking over to the arena together the mentor was thankful that Harry was happy to do this. So few people had the personality necessary to take on the group of girls. These advanced young students were best described as "intense, competitive, highly motivated athletes". They might have the bodies and faces of young girls, but their attitudes were like they were born mini-Cleopatras. 

"Good luck." The mentor said when they reached the barn. Like most rational grown men he was intimidated by little girls and needed to escape to his "man-place". 

Harry stepped into the arena where eight girls, ages 8-12, all advanced enough in riding to be fairly independent, were on horseback already. Most of them were warming up their mounts at a trot or taking their turns at going over ground poles. They were talking with each other as they rode as though their warmup was no more physically exerting for them than it is to be sitting and reading a book. 

The girls saw Harry. Immediately they all began screaming his name, thrilled he was to be the substitute. Some came over and jumped off their horse to wrap Harry in a group hug. They were talking over each other telling Harry how much fun it was going to be to having him filling in for "sick Kyla". 

They called her "sick Kyla" with sarcasm and coughed faky-like as they said it. Without blatantly coming out, they indicated that they knew the substituition was something Kyla was doing for a reason other than being genuinely sick. The girls were in on it. This level of lesson students had spent so much time working with Kyla that they knew her quirks. If she wanted Harry to do a lesson it was for a reason. If she couldn't be there she would always take their wishes into decisions. Once she learned he was their favorite sub, she took their wishes to heart and she protected them like they were her own. 

The hard part for Harry to fill in for Kyla would not be making the lesson meaningful with the girls. In someways they all liked to show off their riding skills for his attention so they tried harder. The girls were not a problem. 

The problem was Louis. Harry took one look at Louis and he realized he was in deep, deep trouble. His dick fattened up and he thought he might have even felt a wet spot in his pants.. 

Some of the girls had taken charge like kids like to do when a substitute is teaching and they had given Louis instructions on how to do the warm-up. Harry wasn't sure how many times Louis had riden under the instructions of Kyla but she must have been including him with her lesson kids regularly. The decision after Louis' accident by Bar 3 was essential that it was essential for Louis' safety that he get started in riding lessons immediately. The kid's group seemed easiest to fit him into. 

The girls knew Louis well by now. Harry could see this. They also knew how Kyla did things. She was gone so they had decided to make him get ready for the lesson by a challenge. He was to trot his horse around the arena while in a "two-point". 

"Two-point" is simple. Instead of sitting the trotting gait, or posting with the trotting gait, the rider lifts their bum out of the saddle and balances over their mount with only their knees pressed into the saddle and their feet in their stirrups. Simple as that. Or not. It requires a lot of balance and stamina. Two girls were coaching Louis. They rode a circle around the arena along with him to encourage him as he warmed up in this two-point stance. 

The thing is, in two-point, one's thighs work very hard which accentuates them. And then there is the bum. It's physically impossible to do a two-point and not have one's back arched and bum tilted in a pleasing lift. 

This majestic image is what Harry walked into the barn to see. Louis, thighs engaged, bum lifted, working hard. He already had a sheen of sweat and was glowing. 

Harry found himself standing there slack-jawed watching Louis as some young girls hung on Harry's side affectionately. It was a bigger struggle to hide his growing interest in Louis than it was to fend off the affection of a slew of girls. The circle Louis rode brought him directly to where Harry stood. Louis took the arrival of "the official guest instructor" as a sign he could sit in his saddle and bring his horse to a stop. 

Louis' eyes looked Harry over slowly. A twisted smirk formed with seeing Harry's condition.

"Don't say it." Harry said knowing what was on the tip of Louis' tongue. Harry couldn't take a suggestive comment even if it was hidden. Anything remotely flirtatious and Harry would have to pull Louis from the horse and fuck him right then and there. 

"What?" Louis said doing a quizzical look of faked innocence, "I was just going to say nice to s e e you. Really. To s e e, so much, of...you." 

Louis' eyes flicked down checking out Harry's bulge quickly. Harry felt a definite wetness pooling. 

Harry turned like he was gong to get to the lesson promptly and went to find aides, or props that Kyla had available for lessons. This was a move of self defense move than necessity for teaching. He hoped there was something he could hold in front of his pelvis. He also tried to think about his Nanna and baby ducklings, anything not sexual, as he walked away to search. He could tell Louis was continuing to stare at his bum the entire way. 

Being resourceful Harry decided to go get some cones to place in the arena to mark an obstacle course for the students. The arena would be cluttered with them in addition to ground poles, but anything to hold over his bulge was better than nothing. 

He turned around quickly for effect with a stack of cones under one arm and one, lone cone, held deliberately in place. Harry had positioned it be jutting directly out from his pelvis shielding his bulge. 

The effect and timing was perfect. Louis was sent into hysterics. He nearly fell off his horse. Most of the girls were unaware but Harry had to quickly rethink his suggestive toying with an audience because one girl got a smirk and shook her head at Harry a little too knowingly for Harry's comfort. She kicked her horse into a trot and rode purposefully close murmuring a quiet comment as she passed Harry. 

"Gee Harry, wet dream about Louis much?" 

Harrry blushed. Weren't these girls too young to understand these things? 

Louis laughed more. For Harry, this was going to be a long lesson.

The lesson wrapped up in what seemed an eternity, or, in real time, a little over an hour later. All the lessons students and Louis took their horses into the isle of the barn to tie them as they were untacked, groomed, and fonded over as girls will do with horses who have flowing mane and tails. This was typically Harry's favorite time. He liked long hair. 

Today however it was painful.

For one thing, he had three of the girls smiling at him in a teasing way, making comments, whispering to each other and watching him every second if he was around Louis. 

Then there was Louis.

His skin was a shimmer of perspiration. He glowed from exertion and from the successful feeling of doing a good job riding. Harry was impressed by Louis' transformation in the saddle. Louis was gaining in skill from the day they rode. Back then all Harry could hope to accomplish was limited; get Louis to look where he was riding. Maybe get him to tap his horse enough to keep her on the side of the road. Since the starting the lessons with Kyla Louis had come a long way. 

A natural athleticism was helping Louis. Harry admired that. Athletic, yes. Gripping with his thighs, posting the horse in a trot which accentuated Louis' natural attributes of his bum, was just too much for Harry. To keep his composure Harry had to focus on watching the two most inexperienced girls for most of the lesson. Either that or rip his eyes out; it just wasn't possible to look at Louis and his "attributes". He let the most experienced girls school Louis for the lesson because, like Harry, Louis was great around children. 

But now that the lesson was over it was all fun and games for the girls who could see the chemistry with Harry and Louis. 

Harry went to lift a saddle off one girl's horse. She rode such a tall horse, 17 hands (or 17 x4 inches tall from hoof to withers) that she needed help pulling the saddle out of the "clouds". As soon as Harry had lifted it off she took it from him and said teasingly, "I got it Harry. Better go help your boyfriend." 

She giggled and Harry blushed. She was not alone in this. What had been three intuitive girls had become eight. And they all delighted in teasing Harry about Louis. 

Harry turned to Louis who was sponging off his horse and had a much water covering himself as he seemed to have on his horse. 

Harry swallowed hard and walked over to Louis.

Louis was all smiley and happy. He noticed that Harry had a stray lock of hair getting into his mouth and, as was Louis' habit, he pulled the hair away with a finger. Then he asked, "Is this wet enough?" 

What was he talking about? Certainly not the horse? Himself? Harry began to answer but his tongue seemed to have swollen in his mouth. He stumbled over his words and made no sense. He thought he said "you want it wet" referring to getting the sweat off of the horse's coat with fresh water, but he wasn't sure. Louis squeezed a sponge that was in his hand where was resting on the horse's back. Soapy bubbles came out from the top of his small fist with the squeeze. It looked exactly like when cum bubbles out from a fist-wrapped cock. Harry coughed with astonishment. 

How could Louis make everything into sex? What was wrong with him? People weren't like that. Well, not most people. Only someone like...like well, Harry, actually.

After the soap-foam-"ejaculate" oozed out of Louis' hand it was Louis' collarbones with their shimmer that made Harry's mouth dry. Harry decided it was safer to make juvenile sexual innuendos with sponges than look too close.

So Harry joined in with Louis who was laughing the blatant suggestiveness playing with the sponges. They both were feeling it. Giddiness. A drunken attraction.

Around them the girls were going about their business of getting their horses cleaned up from the lesson. Parents were beginning to arrive to pick them up and the dismissal routine was something Harry didn't need to oversee. Harry tried to ignore the giggling from the three girls who were advanced in their understanding of he and Louis. Vaguely he was aware of the girls putiing their horses into turnouts and corrals as was a standard plan. 

Harry and Louis got hugs from the girls as they were leaving. As the girls left one by one Harry and Louis continued to stand together beside Louis' horse. They weren't speaking, only talking with their eyes, neither able to pull away from the other. Yet as long as there were children around they also couldn't do what was building inside. 

Harry was aware that Louis kept looking at his mouth. Or following the length of the chain of Harry's necklace down his torso. Louis sometimes looked below where it dangled taking a second's glance at Harry's crotch. The act of looking at the bulge kept Harry in a state of eternally unable to attain a flaccid status. Thankfully, Harry thought, he didn't have to speak to any parents at pickup, but seriously, what took some of the girls so long to get done and leave? 

This question weighed on Harry more and more as it seemed Louis was looking more inviting and breathtaking by the second. Louis was still sponging water on the horse but he was clumsily about it in a deliberate way. 

Louis would fix his eyes on Harry's as he audaciously and intentionally missed squeezing the sponge over the horse, usually drenching himself instead. The manner in which Louis kept his eyes looking into Harry's forced Harry to see the outcome of this sloppy sponging. 

Louis' teasing showcased his body in wet clothes. It screamed "made for sex". Yes. That was Harry's interpretation. He wrote a script for the unspoken. Louis had powerful thighs that suggested "gonna hold you tight as I ride you" and delicate collarbones that seemed to beg "mark me". Between them was a tiny waist that said "hold here as you relentlessly force me down onto your cock".

As Harry's sex-thirst built he remained locked into the stare they shared. Even that was cruel for Harry as he realized Louis' honey-toned skin had made Louis' eyes appear unnaturally blue for a devil. Surely Louis had be a devil for killing Harry like this whilst not offering the slightest touch. 

"Harry?" 

Harry heard his name but couldn't disengage from his fantasy. Slow death by Louis Tomlinson. Fueled by a fantasy of those thighs he had enjoyed seeing work so hard throughout the riding lesson... 

"Harry?"

A mentor came close enough that Harry realized he was being called. The snap into reality made him aware that not only did this person want to speak to him, but also the eight girls had finally all left. It was just he and Louis and the one horse in the tack up area. Harry did his best to respond and move to greet the mentor so it wouldn't appear that he was standing there spellbound by Louis' sponge bath seduction.

"Here, I'm here. Sorry, didn't hear you."

The mentor was oblivious. Fortunately, the stiffness to Harry's walk went unnoticed. The man saw Louis was still in the barn and he ignored anything but his reason for seeking Harry.

"Harry, why did you tell those girls to turn the horses out?"

"What? I didn't."

"Well they did. That's not the normal schedule. Those horses get ridden again in the intermediate group lesson for program attendees. They are supposed to go into their corrals so they are close in. The girls put them in the big field and last I saw horses were all galloping up the hill into the hinter-lands. Clearly the horses knew they were playing hookie. You didn't tell them to turn them out?"

Harry shook his head "no" and offered a suggestion. "Maybe Kyla told the girls to put them out?"

The mentor scratched his head and looked confused. He saw Louis standing behind his horse. Louis acted like he was busy and he was finally using a sweat-scraper to shed water off the well-bathed horse.

"Why would Kyla tell them that? She knows the schedule best of all. In two hours those horses have to be here to be tacked up again and ready to go. It's going to take at least an hour to go gather them up." 

The mentor glanced over seeing Louis was finishing. Apparently he made a decision. "How about you take Louis with you and get them. You'll need help, but we need you to go get those horses all back before the next lesson. It will take an hour if your lucky to catch them all. Just make sure you get them here within two hours."

***

So it was that Harry and Louis were walking on a trail leading through the biggest pasture going up into hills looking for horses. Why the girls decided on this day to turn them out seemed a mystery. They knew the routine. 

The path that Harry took lead them up through patch work of grass and aspen groves. They hadn't gone far before they saw the horses. The horses were grazing contentedly. Harry felt bad about taking them away from their unexpected "recess". 

He looked back over his shoulder at Louis and his heart skipped a beat.

Louis was drying quickly in the arid heat, but the mix of wet and dry with Louis carrying two sets of halters and lead ropes draped on each shoulder made it look like some set up for a bondage-themed porn shoot. Louis smiled at Harry. Smiled knowingly and coy.

"My clothes are so uncomfortable." Louis announced. "It would be better if I took them off until they dry."

Harry couldn't take it. This had gone far enough. 

He dropped the halters and lead ropes he was carrying. It took one stride to reach Louis and seize the smaller lad. 

His contact had such force that he nearly knocked Louis down. Harry took the liberty of engulfing Louis in his arms and thrusting his tongue into Louis' mouth as he backed Louis up walking them into a tree. Louis did nothing to resist and made kiss-muffled laughs as Harry kept him pinned. 

The increasing aggressiveness with which Harry kissed and grappled at Louis' body was so intense that when he broke off it was because he heard a tiny whine come from Louis. The almost whimper noise was because Harry had so wrecklessly manhandled Louis into the large tree that he had unintentionally caused Louis to be nearly impaled by a broken tree branch stub that stuck out a little and began digging into Louis' flesh just above where his pants' waist rested. 

Releasing Louis, Harry saw how Louis was slightly flushed, breathless, but looking like he wanted more. 

"Ow" was the only thing Louis said as he twisted to try to see his back. 

Still aroused by so much teasing earlier, Harry spun Louis around while pulling off Louis' shirt in the same move. It was done with such ravenousness again, that Louis had to grab the tree trunk with both hands to catch himself. 

Harry whipped off his own shirt before he put his hands back on Louis stabilizing Louis by placing his large hands over Louis' smaller ones. Keeping his hands still for a second or two was as if to say "leave your hands there" without using the words, Harry inspected Louis' back. There was a scrape, deep enough that Harry felt guilty for his ferocity. And yet as he tenderly ran his finger over skin to trace an outline of the wound quietly uttering his apologies all Louis did was laugh at him. 

...And wiggle his bum.

Louis bent into the tree a bit and lifted his arse while he looked over his shoulder and winked at Harry.

"I think the waist band of my annoyingly wet jeans is going to rub on it and make it worse, don't you?"

Harry leaned over Louis and kissed him passionately again but with much more tenderness as they stayed like this in their kiss. Harry's chest was laying over Louis' back and Louis was pushed into a bend that he held by tightly holding onto the tree. Harry felt Louis rock his pelvis to press his bum into Harry whose bulge was painfully tight in his pants again.

Harry pulled back from the kiss and reached around to unfasten Louis' jeans. 

Was this really going to happen?

For the first time since Harry was a virgin He felt a mix of excitement and fear. Fear from a chance that this was a fleeting gift. A right of passage, like first love, first kiss, first...

Harry realized Louis created that hopeful feeling. Hopefulness that keeps a heart enduring through fears of rejection. A quest for love and union.

Once Harry thought he had that kind of love when he gave himself to his teacher. That was supposed to be forever. Everlasting. Or so young Harry thought. 

And then he had his heart broken. He was just a vessel to use. How could just a boy think he was going to fill the needs of a grown man when the only thing special about him was his virginty. Once the virginty was gone, what was left? That's how it felt to Harry when he was tossed aside. So he became the one who took. Taking became fulfilling because it was a hunt. Find the willing heart. Use it. Then abandon it. The begging. The begging for more he liked the best. It filled his empty heart. Cruelty, but filling.

As that was Harry's experience, he became aware he'd been daydreaming of the ugliness. He wondered why. Then it hit him that Louis had made him feel what is was to want with an open heart. 

And yet Louis was begging. Begging was an impulse-triggering thing for Harry. Along with that he had Louis stirring him with all his naughty little things.

Those reflections overlaid Harry's task of stripping off Louis' wet jeans. Louis had been saying all the right things while Harry was revisiting his emotions, his experiences and his evolution. 

"Yes, please get me out of these. Must be yours, please..." Louis was repeating. 

How was Louis like this? Harry was asking as he won the fight with the damp denim. 

It was so bewildering for Harry, this "slutty" boy he'd just know briefly and was still struggling to understand. "Slutty" Harry thought as he heard Louis call himself that as Harry pondered the paradox that was Louis. 

Louis had said "Let me be a slut for you, Harry. Please let me have you in me."

Surprising himself, Harry snapped back practically falling away from Louis. Why was Louis like this? Why? Why was he so...

Harry didn't even know how to describe him. Following their weekend at Will's, in the time that followed all of them were banished from being together. Harry listened for any talk about his mates from the UK. A common thread was forming about Louis in the ranch gossip. It was the idea that Louis turned everything into sexual undertones, subtle references. Harry heard a few conversations where other lads in the program speculated that Harry would soon "be tapping that ass" because Harry was well known for having a problem with sexual deviancy. 

It was expected. Harry would fuck Louis.

And here was Louis. Nude, bent over at a tree, bum displayed and welcoming.

Harry hesitated. Was it that Harry needed conquest? For certain Harry made Liam his tool for the reason that Liam was conflicted and a challenge. Well, that and Liam had that really big dick. But Louis? 

Louis was no conquest. 

Louis had reacted to Harry's jump back which took him by surprise. "Are you okay Harry? I know my arse is huge, but didn't you peak at me when we were at Will's cabin? You can't be t h a t surprised."

Louis was laughing and making a joke about this. Louis who was being slutty was now treating their going out for a fuck in the woods like, like any other game. That's Louis. A playful, slutty, enigma. Inexplicable. And wanting Harry.

"I can't do this." Harry said.

Louis turned to Harry. He cuddled up against Harry smiling up at him like a child does when charming an adult for something they know they are not allowed to have. Then he kissed Harry with a quick touch of the lips and put his hands to work on Harry's pants. 

"Sure you can Harry. I'm asking you to. I want you to. I need you to."

"No, I can't."

Harry was pushing Louis' hands away but they seemed to be making progress despite Harry's efforts to block them. And Louis was using his mouth as some sort of weapon to fuck with Harry's defense. If Harry pushed Louis' hands off, Louis kissed him so his brain forgot to defend. If Harry broke off the kiss, Louis bit Harry's nipple, and so on. It went on and on like that. 

Losing patience Harry scolded, "No, stop! I said I can't!"

The emotions shut down Louis' teasing. Harry realized he was panting. He felt like an idiot. Looking at Louis so beautiful, naked and wanting. What was wrong?

"You can with Liam, is it that Liam tops? I guess I could, not that, I prefer, but maybe we could alternate." It was like Louis had the conversation with himself and decided that was it. He moved toward Harry again but Harry shook his head "no". 

"No, please Louis" Harry said and stepped back more.

Now Louis was really perplexed. His did this puppy-is-confused-head-tilt as he was mute. Mute didn't seem to be a normal thing for Louis so this was notable. The head tilt switched a couple times and still he said nothing. He just studied Harry. Harry kept breathing in pants of exasperation waiting for what Louis said next. Like before their Niall-rescuing-adventure, something about Louis made Harry feel like becoming sick. 

"Okay."

"Okay what?"

"Okay." Louis said stepping back closer to the tree no longer looking at Harry. "Okay, fine. I get it. You're not that into me. M'okay with that." 

Louis said it was okay but Harry could tell that with Louis' eyes avoiding his that is was not, not okay. Louis was looking at the scatter of clothes on the ground and he moved them. He was not putting the clothes on so Harry thought maybe he was just moving them to lie them out better for dry in the sun. 

Harry felt guilty. Sure, Louis was feisty, and mischievous. Strong. Unaffected by expectations of sexual norms. But as he moved the clothing around Harry noticed how much Louis was like this tiny delicate thing under all the tough posturing. His features, delicate. Hands, delicate. His body...well that was the thing. It was strong, muscular thighs, full and firm bum. Louis' arms were like his body taken as a unit; thin but defined and sculpted. But there were these things about his body that seemed to make him look like a pixie. Like a tiny little treasure. His tiny waist. His chest that seemed undeveloped and pre-adolescent. His nipples? They were tiny. 

As Harry watched. The normal sass was taken down a few notches as evidenced by some slumping to Louis' shoulders. Louis became content with the way his clothes were arranged. He got down onto them going hands and knees. 

Then he did 

the 

thing.

Louis bent over so his chest was touching the clothing under him with his arse was up, thighs slightly separated. One side of his face was on the ground so he looked away from Harry. With a hand reaching back to pull a cheek to expose himself a little, he wet one finger in his mouth and began using it to trace a circle around his hole. 

Harry watched as Louis accumulated saliva and wet himself. He was determinedly going to do this. With or without Harry. 

The desperate neediness of it was a sluttiness Harry couldn't fathom. Louis had made enough progress that he was beginning to work one finger in. He still could only go one knuckle deep but he undulated his pelvis like he was pleased with himself. Harry realized this made his own dick hard. It leak precum copiously. 

The way Louis had his face turned to the side, self-absorbed, somewhat disinterested in Harry must have been an illusion because he stopped everything at one point. He looked at Harry to speak to him in a very deliberate, matter-of-fact tone.

"You know Harry. If you're not planning on using that dick to fuck me with, seeing how you need to wank it off, you could at least get in behind me, instead of wasting it. Let me use your cum as lube." 

What a filthy....? Harry thought. Why did it bother him? Or not? 

Harry got down on his knees behind Louis. He was close enough that he could easily take Louis like this. And Louis closed his eyes again and continued his work.

Louis' pretty little hole was small. "What was it like before he got started?" wondered Harry. Kneeling behind Louis so close that his knob could easily be pressed in through the tight ring of muscles, Harry considered this at length. 

Questioning more as he watched Louis so close Harry felt a thirst. He tried to keep his cock from blocking the view of what Louis' hands were doing. This wasn't easy. Harry wanted to smack his dick, which weighed heavy in his hand, on Louis' bum, but no. He didn't allow himself. 

Louis' spread fingers were barely big enough to fully pull one cheek completely away from the other. The plumpness of his bum was more than his small hand could easily manage. Harry bit his lip pondering how it would feel to hold those cheeks in his own hands. Or no, maybe try to keep the two cheeks separated by pressing his face between them. Was it possible to be buried in them and not be suffocated while eating Louis out? These were the less than philosphical questions Harry considered. 

Lost in speculation Harry realized he was wanking himself hard. A stirring was developing in his core. His eyes closed. Somehow he intuitively guessed that Louis took a peak to look at him as his pleasure built.

Louis made an erotic slurping noise as he wet his finger again in his mouth, like he was baiting Harry to return to watching him. Harry caved. The noise sounded too close to the sound Harry imagined he would make if he were licking into Louis. Louis opened his eyes just then as he pushed one finger deep into his hole. Harry came, influenced by the power of seeing Louis like this, moaning out his response to Louis' performance. 

"Aah..ah, ah, o'fucking slutty you fucking tease..."

Harry's seed spilled on Louis and before he recovered from his release Louis made a pass to scoop the cum to his hole. He was taking what Harry gave him into himself with two fingers. The filthiness of it made Harry's mind strain to focus whether this was real. 

Harry sat back on his haunches watching as Louis gathered the last of what was given by Harry and made good use of it. Empowered, Louis was thrusting two fingers deep into himself saying "oh, yes, thank you!" 

Completely filthy. 

And completely unlike anything Harry had ever seen. 

Twisting his small fingers, fucking them as deep as he could reach Louis let go of his bum. He began to wank himself and rocked back onto his fingers more desperately. His back arched as he strained to make his fingers connect better to the place he sought inside himself. 

Harry could hear Louis' frustration in the little sounds he made. Louis' face showed his torment. As if to compensate his hand moved faster on his dick trying to get himself to the pleasure that was eluding him. 

Harry just watched. 

Amazed. 

And began stiffening up again.

Louis came and it was one of those masturbation-sought orgasms that just skirts the full sensation of pleasure. Harry knew from personal experience of being so robbed many times in the past. Louis fell on to to his side, his tiny ejaculate missing the scatter of clothing beneath him just like his pleasure was a scatter and not a true release. He laid on his side with knees drawn in, quiet, pulling an arm over his face.

Harry wanted so much to hold him. The sun was warm and Louis was wet again, from his sweat but Harry noticed a slight tremble that slipped from Louis' body, like a shiver spoke of the emotional vacancy left. 

This touched Harry's heart and made his eyes tear. He put a hand tenuously on one of Louis' thighs and whispered. "I'm sorry. I...I. I don't know what makes you want me when, what is it?"

Louis kept his face partially covered and said. "Something about your silken mane Harry."

Louis dropped his arm laying in a twist that accentuated everything that was sinful about his body. The glorious definition of his thighs. His deceptively strong arms, his tiny nips on his tiny chest, his tiny waist, the arc of his back and the swell of his bum. 

Louis continued elaborating on his reply. "I knew on my first day here I would have to fuck Zayn. No question. And Niall. I didn't see Liam, or yes, I would have wanted him. And even though it was just for fun, just doing um, bro stuff with, I had already made the mistake. You came to get me in the meadow on my second day and I touched you. I played with your curls. This feeling about you, it j u s t. k i n d a. h a p p e n e d."

Harry felt his tears pooling. And he saw tears also brimming in Louis' eyes. They stared at each other and as Louis began to move. His glance made a tear fall taking its path down that perfect cheekbone. Harry couldn't take it. 

He pulled Louis onto his lap as he was sitting with his knees on the ground legs bent under him. With Louis coming into him so they were chest to chest he brought Louis forward pulling them into one with hands gripping into Louis' bum cheeks. Harry kept them spread and felt the wetness of Louis' hole as it was positioned right above his newly fattened dick. 

Arms intwined they kissed the way lovers do when it is the start of makeup sex. Deeply comunicating. Kisses mixed with moans and infrequent chances at life sustaining breaths. 

It's not the breaths that matter. Not when there's this much passion. It's the contact that gives life. 

Seizing the moment Louis lifted and Harry felt Louis take his cock and press Harry's knob to brush against his hole. Harry didn't have time to vocalize his thought that Louis' two-fingers were not enough to adequately prepare Louis for what might come next. He wanted to ask Louis to wait but Louis pushed himself downtaking Harry into him. Harry felt Louis' back go rigid and his breath hitch.

When Louis was seated with Harry filling him Harry leaned back holding Louis away to took at him! scan his face, for concern.

Harry had a hand on either side of Louis' rib cage. So big were his hands and so small Louis' torso that Harry's fingers extended so he could easily feel each rib adding to the difference of scope between their bodies. Louis' thighs which bracketed Harry's made a tiny quiver and his head hung down.

"Louis?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay loves, it was difficult to make the transition from the accident to the yet untold romance. Hoped to make it short, but ...
> 
> ...it ends mid-smut. Picks up there next chapter. Mostly I'm concerned that Louis reads as too slutty but be patient. He is attuned to Harry. Not saying more because spoiler. Oh and too tired so edited the typos for shit.


	24. Skin to skin

"...Louis?" Harry's said again softly. 

Waiting face to face with Louis, breath held, Harry marveled. The deepness of his penetration made him question how Louis could bear this. Louis was so small and yet he had all of Harry buried within him. How? 

Louis' skin glistened with a sheen of sweat. This was telling of the strain. His dick was made only slightly stiff like Harry being buried in him was stimulating enough to tease the pretty knob into exposing only the tiniest bit beyond the sheath. The stillness though, it suggested maybe this was not completely pleasing, maybe Louis was only enduringly taking Harry instead. 

Looking down at the beauty of Louis' uncircumcised cock Harry wanted to take it into his mouth to make it fully hard plying it with his tongue. 

He wanted to kiss the inside of Louis' thighs; nibble them until they quivered. He thought that once he had Louis hard from this and needy he could take Louis' cock in hand. 

He would let Louis ride him but he'd control Louis. 

It was comfort to Harry to do controlling. Those he had sex with, it was the power over them that motivated him. The idea of staving off Louis from coming, holding a lover in a deliberate grip of ownership was familiar habit. For Harry that pattern would be reassuring. Harry initiated, owned and controlled everything so he was accustom to this idea. 

But that was not to be. Louis was disarmingly still. This made Harry pause. It made Louis the lord over Harry. Harry remained frozen with anticipation waiting for something, anything, from Louis. He began to fear that Louis had passed out because it was quite literally almost like holding a wrag doll in his hands. Only the breeze around them seemed to be moving.

Then, ever so slightly, Louis moved. Slowly. He arched his back tilting his pelvis in a slow undulation as his head tipped to one side and rolled toward his shoulder. It came to rest falling back exposing his neck. He parted his lips slightly. The only sound he made was a metered series of tiny breaths like he was adjusting to some strain but his face was peaceful. 

How does he do this? Harry asked himself. Louis' two fingers, his only preparation, were no match for Harry.

Louis' eyes remained closed. A small change in his face could have been easily missed except for that Harry was staring at Louis still in marvel as Louis continued pacing subtle moves rocking his pelvis. Slight was the small breaths and the tiniest of a wince. Louis was indeed taxed with Harry filling him. Harry knew it. This was so tight, after all, that Harry's own sensations exploded with it.

Exhilaration. Alive. A rush. Harry's senses were heightened by the way Louis' body fit with his. It created a blend of illusion and reality. Oddly what described it best was "safe" which let his imagination free. Harry heard sounds of nature around them like something new. Even the ordinary fluttering of leaves in the aspen trees was different. It sounded like tiny whispers. His skin tingled with the shifts of wind teasingly combining with the shifts from Louis. This gave Harry a sense of Louis being the wind and it was his breath laughing over Harry's skin. Shadows of leaves falling over them combined with the warmth of the sun made this seem magical too. Like the mix shadows one instant where there was a burst of bright light next were made by fairies playing in their wake. Harry smelled a mix of their bodies' scent. Louis' was intoxicating. Everything felt right to Harry. He needed to call Louis' his. 

He wanted to kiss Louis but Louis was still using his breath like its pacing was essential and took all of his concentration to continue this ride. 

Harry didn't dare risk to move his hands from how they stabilized Louis in his lap either. Not yet. Not while Louis was in his own place taking Harry with deliberate, perfect cadence. So Harry's mouth went to Louis' neck, the underside of his jaw, the divots of Louis' collarbones. These places Harry made his marks. He licked and sucked skin, kissing where he wanted to leave pristine, sucking places he wanted to claim. 

Pulling back momentarily to study his work Harry felt proud. Louis looked so good like this; claimed, zoned out, determined. 

It had to be determination because Harry's small move unsettled Louis and he moved with a slight urgency to cling back onto Harry. Louis' arms went to the top of Harry's shoulders and he pulled their torsos closer together. Louis let his head press gently against Harry's and he wrapped himself around Harry by crossing his arms behind Harry's neck. Hands went to hair so even Louis' fingers suggested they were grappling, a quest for borrowed strength. 

This cling coincided with abandonment of gentle hip rolling. Louis began fully lifting riding every inch up slowly, sinking back down in equally slow passes. Each time he sat to take Harry deep his head went back. Each time he rose up he pressed his head against Harry's. It was rhythmically molding them, fusing them as one. 

Harry languished in the pleasure, Louis riding him, Harry letting Louis do all the work. But soon Louis was fatiguing, shuddering holding onto Harry like he would break if didn't. And yet still he continued to quietly lift up and drive down onto Harry. 

Harry's hands could no longer be content to just stabilize Louis. They had drifted to feel the transition between tiny waist and the swell created by Louis' spectacular bum. Sliding his hands over all of Louis' arse Harry fulfilled his desire to caress each luscious cheek in each hand. He squeezed them. He didn't care if he perhaps made bruises with his fingers. He'd already marked Louis visibly elsewhere. 

Moving his grip on Louis' arse Harry's fingertips were able to get new sensations of touching himself and Louis where they met as one. It was so different to feel his own cock like this with it sliding into Louis' hole; the way just the tips of his fingers glazed along Harry's sensitized skin. It made Harry's cock seem bigger than he considered himself. Maybe it was that Louis was so small. And tight. How was Louis taking this? 

Harry tried to look for an answer in Louis' face. He moved a hand to the center of Louis' back as he separated them a little, the space Harry created between them giving him a revised view. He could see how Louis' fatigue was growing. Harry realized that Louis was leaning, clinging on to him, just managing this dicking. Sure enough Louis' head was moving very "rag-doll" again. 

Harry had an impulse to lie Louis down, take this with a fresh approach, maybe even delay but Louis began to softly vocalize a string "oh yeses" into a consistent soundtrack. 

Louis' normally golden skin was flushed with some pink and Louis became sloppy in his posting on Harry's cock. Harry felt himself building with pleasure too and moaned Louis' name. He didn't want this to end yet. Not just yet that is not until he was certain Louis would come. As if an answer to Harry's question about Louis' impending release, Louis' cock waved fully erect between them, weeping precum. Harry cold see Louis was on the edge of his own orgasm. It surprised Harry because he hadn't once touched Louis' cock. 

Louis became noisy. "Oh yeses" started flowing loudly. They stopped when Louis' body clenched. He screamed a thing that was like "Aaahhhh..." which blended into "aaaahhhhrrry" as he shot small spurts up his tummy and chest with some hitting Harry too. As he fell apart he made a desperate effort to kiss Harry at climax' end and it occurred to Harry, Louis was waiting for him. He'd been waiting for Harry to do something or say something, perhaps to share in this together like lovers like to do. 

Harry kept his hand on the center of Louis' back and let Louis' body slide toward the ground once Louis seemed to be coming down from his orgasm. Louis was limp within a second of his last spurt. Harry felt himself start to cum as he was pulling out while Harry still tried to guide Louis gently down to the ground. 

Harry's effort was a little futile and desperate. Try as he may to catch his cum without letting it taint Louis who he'd laid down beside him, Louis didn't seem to take offense. Tried as Harry did, Louis very aimlessly took ahold of Harry's hand. Louis tried to direct Harry to spill his load onto him. 

Louis was obviously barely post-climax enough to speak but his cheekiness was restored. Louis said, "Na, that's for me Curly." 

The small bit Louis hand gathered from Harry went right to his lips. Louis licked it as Harry's heart skipped. Why was he so, so, so like that?

Harry hid his blush of adoration by laying down next to Louis. He didn't care that he had laid Louis to rest on all the clothes and was he himself on bare ground with scratchy grass and small stones. He just wanted to be skin to skin with this amazingly sassy, sexy, spirited boy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I can't edit my own typos to save myself. Sorry! I'm making this update short because the last one was so long. This will pick up with their cuddle because that likens this to the thing that was happening in Harry's pseudo consciousness after his accident.


	25. Keep me in there

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Be mindful that there is two time lines in this chapter.

***

It was just seconds after Harry relaxed sprawled out in the warmth of the sun with Louis beside him when the feelings swelled up in Harry. Feelings of doubt. They grew stronger and stronger. Finally Harry had to shift his face away more by turning to the hard earth. He didn't want to have the tearing in his eyes give him away. No sooner had Harry made his shift than Louis was moving too, pulling himself more tightly against Harry's back making Harry, the little spoon, his captive. Arms and legs entangled them together and Louis' breath kissed the back of Harry's neck. 

This comfort made Harry's emotions build more and more. He tried to hold back his tears. 

Louis' lips pressed to Harry's skin, kissing Harry's neck, upper back, shoulders. Did Louis know about the tears? How could he? 

"The ground is scratchy and," Harry said hoping to divert any sign of his discomfort away from his heart "full of rocks. 

Maybe Harry could decieve Louis, at least he'd hoped, into believing this sex-in-nature thing was too outdoorsy. Louis didn't respond with words. He continued scattering kisses over Harry's skin. His delicate hands ran across Harry's body with reassuring tenderness. Every so often Louis simply played with Harry's curls. He repeatedly took a lock of hair to twist on his index finger, pulling it out and letting the curl spring back off of his finger. This was a wordless game Louis lost himself in as they laid in the sun. 

The tenderness fueled the need to suppress the emotions building in Harry. 

"It hurts. The ground, hurts." Harry said as he shifted and brushed the ground for emphasis. He wasn't going to risk having Louis know the "hurt" which was bothering him was emotional. 

Louis moved away just enough to create a small space on the clothes that blanketed the ground under him. He petted them like an invitation and pulled Harry over to join him on the slight comfort they afforded. With Harry repositioned Louis laced his fingers in Harry's hair and covered Harry with himself. He turned Harry's face into a kiss tender and deep. 

"Let me in Harry. You don t have to keep me there if you don't want to." Louis said.

It literally felt for Harry like his heart skipped a beat by hearing those words. So much was implied by Louis; let him into Harry's heart. Following the skip-of-a-beat sensation Harry felt a tingling rush like a wave rolling over his skin. It was the same sensation he got during an orgasm. It was intense enough that he touched himself to check whether he had cum by the power of Louis' words. 

His hand was met by Louis' smaller one coming overtop of his. Louis was giggling like Harry touching himself was funny. He spoke again before Harry had time to formulate a reply to Louis' "keep me there" comment. 

"Or you can just keep me on my knees for you. Like now, for instance, I'm fine with sucking this impressive cock of yours until your ready to fuck me again, really. So in there," Louis said "there" while tapping on Harry's chest, "on my knees for you or i n t h e r e. I'm fine either way."

Harry rolled to his side again. Why was Louis like this? Why so willing and free? 

Why did he want to be in Harry's heart? 

Why be willing to be this slut for Harry? 

Why was Louis...getting i n t h e r e? 

Why?

*** 

Harry woke a little. It was something painful that was the cause. He stirred it hurt. Opening his eyes, he saw Gemma. She was reading, sitting across the room. Seeing him awake she got up quickly looking concerned. She came over to Harry with some pills. She took two from a bottle, gave them to Harry while whispering "to sleep more". 

Then as if repeating herself but talking to Harry in the the third person she said "He needs sleep". Who was she talking to? 

Harry took the pills and the water offered. It was so weird. Like the glass was from her third hand. How did she hand him that? And there was the warmth of the bed behind him, like pressing into ...

Harry drifted back to sleep. 

***

Harry would discover that Louis would always cling on to him as some essential step of post-sex recovery in short order. It happened their first time. It was one of the things that preoccupied Harry's thoughts the day after. That day Harry was supposed to be doing something with his mentor. He was looking forward to it because without a distraction Harry had been only able to think every second of the day about the day before. The way everything felt with Louis, the "keep me in there" comment, or the counter offer about being availabe for use. And oddly enough Harry also kept thinking how right it felt just to be pressed body to body with Louis and no words between them. But when Harry went to see his mentor he was unexpectedly informed he'd have a free few hours instead. So Harry immediately decided that he was going to go for a ride. Something about his experience with Louis the day before was made to be unshakeable, unavoidable. This truth made Harry need to get out alone on a horse and think where he could be emersed in thoughts since avoidance was eluding him. 

Harry went to get a horse. He was within two steps of entering the barn when he ran into Louis. 

Louis. 

Surprise! 

Indeed there was Louis coming out of the barn leading a horse, saddled in western gear, Louis wearing the boots Will gave him like a proper equestrian. The pair were clearly ready to go somewhere other than the indoor arena. 

"Louis?" 

"Harry!" 

Louis stepped forward like he was going to go into Harry, maybe embrace, when a voice made him stop short. Kyla came into out from behind Louis. She was carrying some red and green wires with clamps on them in one hand and a solar electric fence charger in the other. 

"Hey Harry," She said casually as she went over to Louis' horse. She opened the saddle bags and didn't act the least surprised. Maybe she was even a bit too nonchalant about Harry being there. She began to stuff the components for solar charging a fence into the saddlebags. "Funny seeing you here, Harry. What are you doing?" Her tone was slightly sarcastic. 

Harry wasn't sure how to answer her. Does he say "Well, Kyla I was on my way to go out for a ride, alone, so I can get my mind around the dicking that I gave Louis yesterday...." 

No, probably not the best answer. 

Harry stood there opening his mouth and closing it as he tried to put his brain in proper gear for providing an answer. 

Seconds ticked by with Harry was quite certain that Kyla caught how Louis looked like he was a split second from launching himself into Harry when she abruptly popped into view. It was also quite plausible that Harry had a look of creepy lust on his face. Indeed that is what Harry was feeling as the three of them stood there while Kyla waited for an answer. 

It may have been a total surprise to run into Louis but How was Harry to say it had the effect of causing him to have immediate need of Louis. 

So. Yeah. Lust. 

Creepily overpowering lust. 

Written in neon on Harry's face. 

Only an idiot couldn't see it. Or someone who couldn't believe two people could want each other if they were the same sex. 

But this was Kyla. Harry had a good idea that Kyla had experienced things beyond her years maybe a little too early in life. She also wasn't someone who seemed afraid of different views, ideas, kinks and life styles. She seemed to like "love" despite defining herself "a disaster from hell sent to destroy men". And while Harry never saw her interact unprofessionally with the young men at Bar 3 who were close to her age, she did seem give off the idea that she liked men, sex, sex and men, pretty much anything about men and sex. So, yeah, Kyla could see the obvious. Creepy or not. Hetero or not. 

Harry decided he knew enough to do better than to try to bullshit her about he and Louis. 

"Well, I'm free this afternoon unexpectedly. I was going to go for a ride, alone. What's Louis doing?" 

Her response was like a dream come true. She said it with a faint blush and a slight smirk of delight. 

"Actually Harry why don't you help him? I'm sending Louis to take these over to Will's ranch. Apparently some cattle have strayed into his yard and their owners are busy searching for the rest of the herd that were scattered eveywhere last night, maybe from a cat. But Will doesn't have a way to keep the ones at his place penned. They are trampling everything. He's got a temporary fence up around them but no power on it to keep them from walking through it. I'm having Louis take one of our chargers to him. Why don't you go w i t h Louis. I'm sure you'd be a big help to Will if there's more to than just bringing this charger to him. You're pretty handy, aren't you Harry." 

The way she said that. "Handy". The way she put the emphasis on "go with Louis" was deliberate. Yep, she knew something. Then as if to confirm it Kyla added, "Be warned however, you and Louis could be stuck with being away from here for hours..." 

The way Kyla was so at ease about him and Louis made Harry curious. He decided to ask. 

"Glad to help Louis. And Will is an interesting person. Not like we lads all tend to believe actually. It would be nice to help him out. But Kyla, I've been wondering about something that happened yesterday. There seemed to be some confusion about the horses. After the lesson. The girls turned them out. Guess that was unusual. Could never figure out why. Louis and I went to get them, but it's been, well I'm wondering. Why did the girls do that." 

Kyla seemed content that the saddle bags were secured on Louis' horse. She looked at Harry with another vaguely suppressed smirk that became unabashed smile when she stepped closer to Harry and looked into his eyes. 

"There was no confusion Harry. The girls did exactly as I asked. Go get yourself a horse and don't act like you didn't love having to take Louis in the woods. Oops, I meant go to the woods..." Kyla was laughing at her turn of phrase as she turned and walked off. She paused only to call over her shoulder "and kinda expecting this short errand to Will's might get complicated and maybe we might not see you two back here for hours again. I'll make sure everyone knows where you are." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had shattered my iPad screen so this had to wait...hope you like where it's going.


	26. Harry's fulfillment

***

Shortly later Harry and Louis were riding over to Will's with no words said between them. Despite the suggestiveness from Kyla both were content to ride in silence and flirt with their eyes. 

For the first time Louis was able to ride with Harry and truly appreciate how magnificent Harry looked on a horse. For Louis it was easy to get lost in dreamy fantasies about that. Harry just sat a horse with an elegance and natural ease that made him even more charming. His long legs looked strong and sculpted. Everything about him seemed graceful when he was on a horse. Like he was the one true Prince Charming; the emerald eyes, the curls, the insanely perfect lips which were set off by the adorable dimples. 

For Harry's point of view he too was able to appreciate Louis in an entirely new way. Louis had gained a lot of experience from Kyla's group lessons, he seemed relaxed, but there was even more to it than that. Harry could see the way Louis looked at him like he was at peace around Harry. Gone was Louis' fear like the last time they rode. In fear's place was something, something new. He was like sunshine. Whenever their eyes met Louis' sparkled, his entire face smiled. Crinkles framed them and his ridiculous lashes seemed too full to be natural as they fluttered. It reminded Harry of their meeting up in the meadow that day with Snowball. The day when Louis was something of a creature of nature, like a forest pixie, or a droplet from the sun made into a boy which Harry had discovered. 

But who could look at the sun? 

Harry's brow furrowed like something was troubling him. As soon as his countenance shifted like some internal conflict was looming, Louis saw the emotions tarnish the beautiful nuances he'd been admiring. Traveling the same road they had taken their time riding before Louis remembered everything Harry had taugh him that day when they were coming back from Will's. He wanted that Harry who was at ease, that warm, confident about himself Harry, not this consumed-in-self-doubt-Harry. It didn't fit in Louis' mind. His Curly couldn't be trapped wallowing in that doubt or something destructive, something like, like self-loathing. 

After several more minutes of riding in silence an idea occured to Louis. He broke into a lyrical series. 

"Da, da, da, da, dum" Louis sang. 

Harry looked at Louis. Louis' face showed this was an effort to entice Harry. 

It was just a smile, a smile that said "want" to Harry. "Just keep looking at me" the look said as the limerick played off his tongue, innocent yet sentimental. Calling to Harry. Harry considered indulging in his defensive fall back place; he considered stopping them along side the gravel road and pulling Louis to the ground for the taking. Making it raw and more unfeeling than he tried to, although not so successfully, the day before. This idea came to Harry as a way to stop the drowning in crippling emotion he was getting confronting Louis' easiness about them. Realizing that they were too close to Will's ranch for that Harry gave up and tried just looking away. 

Louis was different than him; playful and, free. Louis was free to choose, free to live, free to...fuck whoever he wanted. 

They turned their horses into Will's ranch and reality set in. Harry wanted to be that free. He wanted. 

*** 

Warm was the welcome that Harry and Louis received. They arrived to find Will had the electric fence strung and the wayward livestock were grazing contentedly inside its boundary. Probably the critters found the ranch buildings a safe harbor given that they were most likely scattered from the main herd by a mountain lion as Kyla said. 

Will was quick to greet Harry then Louis in his friendly fashion that was an unfamiliar occurance by popular reputation to the majority of youth back at Bar 3. He immediately called to Harry affectionately as "Prince Harold". Harry, who dismounted first, shook hands with Will in the traditional western man to man way of the region. 

With Louis the reception was different. Will was quick to take Louis in a hug as soon as Louis' boots touched the ground with his dismount. He kept a hand on Louis' shoulder after the embrace which struck Harry as a sign of endearment. The old man held Louis in place as he studied him and spoke to Louis. Will offered fatherly compliments with a slight suggestion of teasing. 

"Good to see you've gained a few riding skills and sensibilities. Enough at least to wear proper shoes when around a horse", Will was saying as Harry hung back and watched. 

It was dawning on Harry that Will's affection for them was sincere yet based in two very different origins. Harry and Will were two of the same and Will admired Harry for that. But Louis. Louis was something different. 

Something about the way Will looked at the boots as he spoke to Louis made Harry feel quite certain that Will had kept the boots for so long as more than just the convenience of having them in case a guest ever happened to be in need. The boots were part of memories. 

Harry stood there and watched Will regarding Louis like Louis was this little treasure. Although Louis clearly considered himself all rough, tough and free-spirited, Will saw him as something else, something Harry was learning to see too as it was defined by Will's gentleness with Louis. Louis was a prize, something to be looked after. Maybe even more so because of his naturally reckless disregard for rules and caution. 

When Will turned back to Harry all of that unspoken wisdom of human nature was evident. Will had assessed them, figured them both out. Harry blushed because maybe Will could tell they had "consummated" things since the last time they were at his ranch. 

Confirming it Will said to Harry with a dry note of humor to his voice, "Guess you both are here because you're past the just-met stage of personal space. Kind like being together. At least I sure hope that is so." 

Will had a glint of amusement on his face as he continued on. He thanked them for bringing over a solar charger. Then he pretended to stretch the boundaries of imposition with them by asking a favor. "Maybe since there are two of you to keep an eye on these cows, I'd kinda like to go see where the neighbors who own these cattle are. See how they are progressing in gathering the larger herd. My horse and I could use an excuse to get away for a few hours. That is if you and Louis wouldn't mind hooking that charger up and keeping an eye on these cattle while I see how it's going? I'd sure appreciate it." 

First it was Kyla now Will. Harry didn't know why these people weren't minding their own business instead of throwing he and Louis together, but whatever the reason he tried to act very chill about saying they could oblige him with some time. How long might he be gone Harry asked. 

Will scratched his head like he hadn't a clue making this deliberate action all the more obvious. "These days I don't ride too fast. A couple hours. Maybe three. Yeah, probably three." 

Wanting to emphasize how deliberate this game of playing innocent was, Will winked and added as he went to untie his horse, "Unless you think I should take even longer. My horse is old too. We could go slower." 

Harry surpress his glee with a slight smile as he said, "We'll see you in about three hours then." 

Will had riden not more than a second out of view before Harry turned back to Louis right as Louis launched onto Harry. He hadn't even bothered to tie his horse to the hitching rail. He simply leaped into Harry as if he assumed Harry should be expecting to catch him. 

The force took Harry to the ground under them with Louis landing straddling Harry between his thighs. Louis' hands were immediately treading through Harry's hair, tracing Harry's face, creating shivers on Harry's neck as Louis peppered Harry with kisses. Rutting his pelvis against the pinned Harry, Louis paused only just briefly enough to ask, "Did he say three hours?" 

Question asked, but no chance for Harry to reply was given. 

"What should we do first?" Louis asked next while once again immediately turning to render Harry's reply was a lost cause, lost to Louis kissing him out of breath. After Harry exhaled his surrender Louis switched to keeping Harry in submission with a distracting trail nuzzling along Harry's neck until he made Harry's body shiver under him. 

Popping upright suddenly and loolking down at a very sensitized Harry, Louis asked "Hours? Did he say hours? I got a few ideas, you?" 

Naturally, once again Harry was completely stuck mute unable to answer. It was like on the day they met up with Snowbal when Louis overwhelmed Harry with his hyper-active, effusive babbling. One thought after another had flowed out of Louis in a continuous stream. But now Harry found it was a huge struggle to keep up because either Louis' mouth was taking his in a passionate kiss, or asking him another question or biting Harry's skin only to follow the nip with a soothing mix of little licks or gentle puffs of breath blown over the marked skin. That rendered Harry into a loss for words and he was only able to emmit small moans and struggle with the urge to feel every inch of Louis' body perched on top of his. 

All the while Louis' busy fingers had left Harry's hair were adeptly stripping them both of their clothing. This he announced upon completion by sitting back and singing "ta-da" as he knitted his eyebrows together in alternating right and left lifts signaling his self-adulation. 

It was cute. Heart-wrenchingly cute, Harry thought. The way Louis was. Lost to the freedom of their world together. 

And 

Harry 

loved 

it. 

Then just as suddenly as Louis had pulled back to show how pleased he was with himself a nearly serious expression crossed over his face. 

"Harry, we only have a few hours. You need to get to fucking me now, right now! So well and so thoroughly, manhandling me so..." 

Mid sentence Louis gave up his words and crushed their lips together. His tongue went deep into Harry's mouth for a few seconds only to yield to his continuation of thoughts. 

"...and hold my cock with yours. One of your big hands holding us both, as we grind together, you gripping so tight, I want, want, want to lick yours...your cock, but no, you won't let me mouth take..." 

Fueling a frenzy with the narration Louis took a break from it for a split second to bring lips to lips in a quick stolen kiss then whispering more of this desire into Harry's ear. 

"...you won't let me suck you, because you need to rough me up just to the point where m'a mess, of tears, sobbing and begging for it...again...and..."

Harry felt himself hot and hard. He realized Louis had taken off every nip of clothing they wore, tight pants and all. He saw they were both erect. The head of their dicks were so close one could easily take them both in hand as Louis described. It was not to be though. 

Harry grabbed ahold of each of Louis' wrists to arrest Louis, control him, moving Louis back so some space was buffering between them. Pinning Louis like this he could see how darken and hungry Louis' eyes looked. Perched on Harry with his arms fanned out like a bird gracefully drying its wings it was also very easy to see the wanting Louis' entire naked body was feeling; his cock was engorged, his nipples surrounded with the goosebumps of anticipation. 

Louis arched his back in futile attempt to bring his smaller torso into Harry's. He tried to shift in his pelvis to challenge Harry's hold on him, bring himself to sitting more over Harry's cock but he was unable to restricted by Harry's hands gripping tightly on his wrists. 

The reality hit Harry. The site of Louis, the way Louis was asking to be reduced by Harry. The way Harry had to hold him slightly afar because of Harry's fear of Louis. The fact that Harry was gripping callously wrists that just a short while ago were so much a concern for Harry because they were mysteriously cut and bruised... 

Harry broke his hold. It was like they were shocked apart. 

"What are you? Why? How...why would you want me do treat you like that? Don't you know what I am?" 

Louis was quick to put his delicate fingers to cradle Harry's face and sweep over Harry's skin with tender brushes of thumbs over cheekbones and lips. Lips which parted slightly like Harry's fear rising in him. 

Louis leaned in and gave Harry the slightest of kiss. Then he answered. 

"But I do know. I know what people here think. I know what you think, and what you think they think of you. It's okay. I'll be what you need me to be." With that Louis was softly kissing Harry again. 

Harry brought his hands under Louis lifting him as he stood and carried Louis, who immediately wrapped his legs around Harry. It was a short distance from the grass where they laid to the cabin door. It occurred to Harry that they had cast off their clothes, left the horses loose, untended, but he didn't care because at this moment all he wanted was to get Louis to a place where he could take ... 

...his fulfillment.

Harry found himself stopped at Will's door with Louis clinging onto him. Louis had been kissing Harry, nuzzling him, each step from ground to the door. With Louis pinned there by Harry's body, Harry broke their kiss and said breathlessly and desperate, "Louis, take the door handle, open it."

Louis kissed Harry deeply and murmured a no. First with a gesture then pulling out of the kiss, his reply was breathless and desperate too, he clarified, "no."

Harry looked into Louis' eyes started, completely take aback by this. Louis said "no". 

"No Harry. Need you to take me here. Like this. Back to a wall. Uncompromising. Pushing yourself into me and making me weep. Then when you've filled me with your cum, you can ...."

Harry released his hands so Louis' legs were free to take their stance on the ground. 

He pulled back a few inches and looked down at Louis no longer fueled and needing. "Why would I do that?" He asked. Harry's own voice sounded awkward in the questioning because he had this ache in his chest like his heart might collapse into itself. 

"Why would I do that?" He repeated.

Harry wasn't conscious of his body language. His hands, his stance, the way his forehead laid softly against Louis'.

He wasn't aware how the contact went from greedily powerful to softly touching. Like Louis was some treasure. He only vaguely realized that Louis was touching him much the same. Softly. Tender. Fingers sliding over Harry like ihis body was a finely gilded treasure. 

Louis turned his lips to Harry's and the words crossing them breezed over Harry's more like a kiss than a reply.

"Because Harry it's what you need. It's what you do. But it's okay with me. I want to be a part of you. Even if there's no other way."

Louis resumed kissing Harry and Harry was feeling all of his defenses crumbling down. His body was back to pressing against Louis'. His hands were back to groping flesh with some more commanding squeezes. 

It was not so intense as before but it was a release. A small yield. Like Louis was edging his heart open.

"Louis you're so confusing. I don't know what you think. What do you mean? I not going to force myself on you, in you. I'm not going to have you in that way..."

Suddenly Harry froze. 

"I'm not going to have you in that way." He said again. 

He heard it in his head. He cast it out into the air. He wasn't going to have Louis. Not like Louis was prey. Not like a thing. Not a conquest. 

Not like Liam.

Not like Nick.

Not like his father's business partner. 

Not like everyone before them, all of the people who followed the moment this scorched heart had been born from suffering. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry's fulfillment is kind of a deliberate misnomer. Actual fulfillment comes in next update. (There's a lot of Harry's character facing reconciling of his problems in this so I decided not to bury the significance of that in the smut.)


	27. Paradox

Harry was struggling to convey his feelings. He didn't want to feed on a need to break others by using Louis too. Something with Louis made that not right. 

"Lay your hurt on me..." Louis said and he sunk to his knees, hands taking Harry in them as his tongue soothed Harry's engorged cock with its tracings. 

Something of an alien feeling swept over Harry as Louis began sucking him. What was different, the missing piece, was his drive for conquest. He was melting from the way it felt to be in Louis' mouth. Little things he hated about himself slipped away. All his "armor" abandoned him. Sure his hands went into Louis' hair but they were gingerly threaded there, not holding Louis so he could forceably shove himself deeper, because yes, he normally wanted whoever was working him to gag from the length of him. 

Not this time. So he pulled Louis' head back and brought Louis' chin up so he could see what Louis' eyes showed him. Harry expected the desire. Always his lover's fell to it. They always thought he was so pretty, irresitable. With Louis there was something more behind his dreamy, watery gaze. Harry swore he saw a reflection of himself like when one looks into a stream. 

Fond. It was fond in Louis eyes. At least Harry defined it as "fond because that was an easier word than the deeper definition of it. That thing that lovers call love. Before Harry could shield himself with some aggression Louis was standing, closing his eyes and taking Harry's lips into a kiss. Again it was soft, tender, loving. It was now he who was melting as he pressed himself into Harry and broke the kiss into bits as between each piece he said the unthinkable thing. 

"M'not asking for your whole heart Curly," 

"...your heart is so big, I know it," 

"m'small, won't take a lot of room." 

As the last word concluded Louis began to slide to his knees again, but Harry caught him. Harry said as he stopped Louis' decent, "Love..." 

He said it. It came out of nowhere. It was a total and complete shock. He called Louis "love". This startled Harry but he had to come up with a reason for why such a mistaken word. He came up with an idea. "Love the way you suck cock, but open the door!" 

Further wanting to pass off his slip he reached around Louis hastily and opened the door himself. He picked Louis up again and carried him inside not stopping until he'd passed through the cabin and reached the bedroom. 

It was somewhat dark despite the bright sunny day because Will hadn't bothered to open the shades. Harry was glad for this; he needed the cover of less light. He tossed Louis onto the bed easily and flipped him over immediately crushing Louis' face into pillows and swatting Louis' arse with several stinging smacks. 

Louis gasped when he could get air and said with a laugh, "Thought you'd come around." 

Harry slapped Louis' bum again with making sure not to hit where it still already showed red from slaps prior. 

"Ooh you did." Harry tauntingly offered back while loving the feistiness. He found himself smiling because Louis was so overtly playful and unincumberd by norms. "Well I go news for you, love---ly, lovely. I got news. If you want this," Harry said pumping his shaft few times in a hand as he went on, "in your mouth or up your arse, you're gonna have to let me eat you out first. If you beg pretty enough, taste good on my tongue I might let you have some." 

Louis' excitement showed briefly with his eye-crinkling smile that Harry had one quick look at before Louis threw himself willingly face-down and wiggled his bum. He parted his legs and tilted his pelvis so his glorious arse was presented nicely. Offset by his tiny waist, it was, well?

A masterpiece, Harry thought. 

Anticipation of how good this would be made Harry's dick twitch. He held his breath like doing so would help him to hold himself off. Lustfullness marginally in check Harry began with the safety of rubbing his hands over Louis' back to make like his restraint was easy for him and he only wanted Louis to relax. Touching Louis' soft, remarkably unblemished skin was an affront to laws of nature. It was enough to make another twitch of Harry's dick foreshadowing to Harry that this battle was not his to win. 

Gathering a deep breath quietly Harry doubled his resolve and worked his hands slowly to Louis' insanely plump, round bum. 

The cheeks were still pink where Harry had slapped them. He licked and blew breath over the affected skin to sooth it. Louis made an adorable pillow-muted noise so Harry chastised him for its distracting cuteness by marking skin he'd been lovingly tending. 

It hurt, clearly Harry had bit a sore spot, but Louis yelped and muffled himself. Something about that noise caused an ache in Harry's own chest. He bit his lip in an effort to bite back his immediate urge to comfort Louis. He wanted hide his heart by calling him "cunt" or "whore" but Harry's brain made a stabbing pain at the idea of falling back into self-defense kind of thinking. His brain took the hint that brutalizing Louis was only going to make that thing going on in he's heart worse. His heart needed to reach out. 

The conflict within suggested to Harry it was best to hold his breath a second until his courage determined it was time.

Breath held, eyes closing, he let his hands alone supply the initial sensations as they slid over skin moving take a cheek firmly in each. He squeezed and fanned his fingers out spreading over this lux bum. It was a challenge but he managed to keep his eyes closed momentary longer relying of his sense of touch for assessing his lover's body. This was not reducing his appreciation; what he held of Louis in his hands felt remarkable. When at last he did peak his stifled breath released in a gasp. His brain was stymied by it; a spectacular, tight, tiny treasure. Louis' hole framed in is hands waiting for him, pink and perfect. 

He licked on either side of this treasure and eyed it. He measured it's sensitivity with his breath teasingly blowing over skin nearby which his tongue had left wet. Dare he? 

Two more licks finally tracing the rim, tiny kitten licks, and that was it. Just two. That's all Harry had in him before he was lapping over Louis' hole sloppily, testing the opening with the tip of his tongue and sucking the rim with pursed lips. Even with his hands spreading Louis' cheeks Harry's face was still buried by that fabulous bum. Harry's need was hungry for this; face buried in Louis arse. 

Sprawled out exposed for him Louis was gripping the bedding in his hands and writhing. He pulsed his hips in tiny undulations. His back showed that his breath was labored and his skin was warming golden like it was baking in the sun. 

Harry pushed Louis into the bed more firmly with a hand presiding on Louis' pelvis between those divots on each hip. He enjoyed feeling one cheek pressed away only held so by the side of his face as he ate Louis out. Having Louis pinned he drove his tongue into Louis as much as the constricting rim allowed. It was unyielding. Louis' body was warm and wanting but it was also tiny and tight. Never had Harry encountered such paradox.

"You need to be still. M'gonna make you a mess like you want ..." 

Louis turned his face so he was not muffled and spoke with an breathless whisper, "Keep doing that like that and m'gonna cum with out anything else, s'good, s'good..." 

Harry silenced Louis by returning to his pleasuring assault. Louis turned his face into the bed mumbling things Harry would never hear. Harry felt his own cock wetting the bed under them with precum and he continued. He licked across Louis' hole deliberately leaving it wet with saliva and continuing to ignore his dick which said urgently "must fuck now".

Instead Harry began teasing Louis with one finger. He barely broke the barrier of the rim before he felt a shudder from Louis. His touches made Louis tilt his bum up and gasp for Harry to give him more. 

"F-f-f-fucking fill me p-pleeeeazz..." 

Even just a fingertip inside Louis like this was pleasing to Harry. Louis was so beautiful, so tight. His strong sculpted muscles were quivering ever so slightly, his full arse wet with perspiration, all the while Louis was panting and gasping, tilting his hips one second and seizing all movement the next. Harry was certain that if he were to force himself into Louis that he would only get in a few trusts and he himself would be coming. As much as he wanted to fuck Louis into orgasm it bothered him that Louis wanted to be hurt, to take his pain. He liked having Louis like this, a begging mess from doing very little, without causing any suffering or anguish. Tormenting this pixie, but with pleasure. 

Harry removed his finger and used his tongue to flick the rim a few times then he sucked over the hole which winked from the stimulation. "Louis you taste so good on my tongue, you do." Harry said. 

It seemed like Louis tried to acknowledge the comment. His face was buried in pillows but it was clear that he was just barely winning the fight to keep himself together. Harry thrust his tongue as deep as Louis' rim allowed, slapped Louis' bum then enjoyed seeing Louis' uncontrollably jerk and strain to regain his welcoming stillness as his body betrayed him with its tiny quivers. 

"You're so incredible like this. A hot mess. Bet I could get you to come with just one finger, hum? Would you do that for me? You were so filthy yesterday doing yourself like that, fingers deep, wishing it was my dick. I bet you don't even need someone to touch your pretty cock if they finger you just right." 

Louis strained to look back at Harry. He was adorable with his neediness written on his face, his fringe bed-wrecked into pixie perfection. The flushed complexion made his eyes blazenly blue like the sea. "Please Curly, won't...want...you inside me, please. Won't hurt me." 

It might have been the edge of tears because Louis' voice broke. He turned back to the bed and was mumbling a please and Harry knew what he had to do. 

He slid up laying his body over Louis' which was heaving with exasperation with every breath. Pressing them together he whispered into Louis ear his assurance. "No Louis, I would hurt you. You're so tight. But I won't. I can't do that to you. You want me to make you feel on that edge of pain? I can do that," Harry caught himself there and paused. He almost said "love". He also t said "I can do that l o v e." But he stopped. 

Nuzzling a tiny kiss against Louis' neck he continued. "You cum for me without my dick, you cum because I'm making you feel so good without it. You do that and I'll make you cum again when I decide your ready for me. Not hurting you. It's not what I want with you." 

Louis was shaking as Harry slid back between his legs and pulled his pelvis up. He smoothed over the skin on Louis' bum which still showed some pink from the slaps. He molded the cheeks and ran his tongue between them wetting Louis. With a lot of saliva he pushed one finger in Louis slowly, stopping somewhere around his first knuckle. They needed more lubricant than just his spit. 

Determine to make this good Harry jumped up and told his quivering mess of a lover to "hold on". He went to the bathroom. "Damn". Nothing. No lube. Right. Celibate old guy. Harry sprinted through the bedroom and went to the kitchen. He was glad he'd cooked there before because he knew where to find what he needed. In the panty he found the coconut oil. Organic too. Did that matter? 

Running back to Louis Harry found his little pixie was mostly as he'd left him except the twat had a finger in himself. When caught he pleaded. He wanted "Harry inside him". 

Harry roughed Louis up in a playful way before he shoved Louis back flat on the bed. This time he made Louis lay face up. He threw a pillow at Louis and chided Louis to shut up with his asking for cock; Louis had to submit to do this Harry's way, he said. Harry warned Louis effectively into silence when he said "It's my way or all you will get is your own fingers again." 

The threat foiled Louis' miscreant behaviors. He looked fear stricken even. He submitted. 

Harry so much wanted to fuck this lad right at that instant. The way Louis looked, sweaty with desire, fearful and nervous. He was biting his lips and playing with the pillow like he wanted to be ready to bury himself under it. His eyes never left studying Harry's face though. His tiny chest was heaving like his heart was racing inside it and he kept making little moves with his pelvis like his body was trained with memory of so many pleasing times riding dick it was subconsciously unable to stop wiggling. 

Harry took pause to position Louis' legs wide and bent with feet flat on the mattress. He coated one finger with the semi-solid oil from the jar. Louis obediently, quietly watched. Resiting the lubed hand on a knee Harry caressed leg making a pass along the inside of the thigh with his mouth kissing and sucking over skin. Louis just moaned and arched his back with each marking. Each inch of the way Louis was watching Harry. Eyes never faltered or wavered. When Harry's mouth got to the divot where pelvis meets thigh Harry looked at Louis with a smirk. His torment of Louis was so enjoyable he'd forgotten about his own cock until then. More precum leaked from him and Harry smiled sinisterly. 

The way Louis looked at Harry with his eyes begging for what he couldn't say made Harry laugh. So Harry fought to regain his lost chill as he to said with a taunting tone to his words, "Such a pretty cock. So sad no one is going to touch it right now. So, so sad." 

Louis bit his lip over again and kept restrained. Every muscle in his body seemed tense with the effort. 

The slow push of Harry's first digit smoothly into Louis made Harry feel a euphoric rush. He had Louis staring at him breathing with such rapidness that Harry wondered how he wasn't hyperventilating. Harry played inside Louis with just the one digit and marveled while Louis struggled to be still. 

"How do you take it. You're so tiny?" 

Louis opened his mouth like he was going to answer but he only made a moan and went back to his panting. 

With half a finger embedded in Louis Harry began twisting it. Louis' face looked panicked, like he could elevate from the feel of that so Harry put his other hand palm down on Louis' chest. He rubbed over the glistening skin feeling Louis' racing heart beating inside his chest. Compared to Harry's broad one, Louis' was just so delicate. Harry was captivated by their differences. Collarbones impossibly alluring. Louis' breast? They featured the smallest nips Harry had ever seen. Even Louis' ever so slightly visible ribs felt strangely sexually appealing as he ran his hand methodically over Louis' entire torso. 

Then there was his puff of a belly. It was like the forces that made Louis were designing his full bottom and complimentary thighs and there was just a little extra so the forces left the fluff there; a place for a face to press into as lip kissed it. So Harry did. 

The belly was so cute that Harry was pondering whether his favorite thing about Louis was still his eyelashes, which enchanted a butterfly, or whether it was this little belly when Louis drew his attention back by a whispered, "Harry.." 

Tears were going down Louis' temples. Harry realized he was treasing Louis into misery with a finger not yet completely committing it to its purpose, just holding Louis there on the edge with want. 

"Okay baby, okay" Harry whispered and hushed. 

With focus Harry pushed his finger in deep and Louis' face looked alert, less strained. With that Harry began making little trusts. He twisted his finger and made a hook with it seeking a spot he'd know in an instant. Brushing over it he had Louis nearly levitating again. Harry' finger brushed the spot again and as Louis started screaming Harry pressed his finger there firmly keeping the body under his command caving. His other hand took a hold of Louis' cock which was spurting cum in ropes so that he jizzed his torso and even his chin. Harry pulled his finger out only when Louis seemed past the strongest waves of his orgasm but then Harry used that hand to twist one of those tiny nipples and the other took Louis' cock and his mouth sucked Louis in. This immediately reinvigorated Louis' orgasm. 

When Harry swallowed what came with the last jerk from Louis' dick he was satisfied Louis had experienced one of those once in a lifetime orgasms. As if to confirm it Louis was positively melted. 

Harry moved to lay along side Louis who was still trembling. He turned his face to Harry's and they had that lover's kiss which comes with extreme satisfaction dispite this being one-sided. Harry didn't mind that his own dick was still waiting and hard. He had one purpose; wrapping around Louis' small frame, pressing their bodies together, nuzzling against Louis' neck he wanted to feel the shivers he elicited in Louis post orgasm. For some reason Harry needed above all else to feel their bodies seamed together as one. It was many minutes of this embrace, with Harry beginning to delight in letting his breath tickle Louis' intoxicating skin and causing more shivers. Laying with his hand over Louis' chest where he could monitor a fluttering within, Louis came down from his high and mewed when Harry teased him. The sensation Harry's hands felt changed and Harry envisioned Louis heart beat like pair of birds resided in there. Before he thought, he spoke. 

"Love-ly" Harry said, catching his use of "love", again...going to adding the "ly" late, again too. 

Louis made muted responses and turned into Harry bringing a leg over Harry's pelvis. This shot an awareness through Louis and he rolled his way onto Harry with his face showing his respite was not quite taken leisurely enough to be fully recovered. His eyes looked a little glazy like he was exhausted and spent. 

"We have a very hard thing here that is needing some immediate action..." Louis began. He was interupted by Harry locking his lips to Louis' and wrestling his boy down into restraint under him again. 

"No. Not yet. Not until I'm certain you're ready for more of my seduction." 

This had Louis pushing, wiggling himself a little way from under Harry and seeking some truth in Harry's eyes as Louis countered, "You don't need to seduce me Harry, just use me, I said." 

A factualness to Louis' tone had Harry too putting some space between them with its matter of fact clarity. Unlike Louis he didn't stop there. Harry repositioned pushing Louis' leg off him and pinning Louis on his back more under him again so Harry could use his size to hold Louis where Louis had to see his face. 

"What does that mean Louis? Why do you keep saying that? How can I be intitled to taking you, forcing myself on you? What is it that gives me the p-r-i-v-i-l-a-g-e?" 

Harry said the word "privilege" slow and strung out so every syllable made its mark. He began an answer of his own for effect because this thing was bothering him. The thing that Louis would be reduced by him, for him. That Louis wanted a tiny little space in his heart at all costs so his body was a toy. Why was Harry so important to Louis? Why did Louis make no sense? 

In Harry's mind an entire list of questions from the paradox of Louis was filling his brain. So many of them. About being used, about being in Harry's heart, about being important...the list went on. And what was meant by that thing Louis said about Harry's heart being big? How the bloody hell did Louis come of with that while asking for abuse? 

The last time Harry heard words said about him, about his heart being "big", was years and years ago when he was a child. He was about to enter puberty. Harry would never forget. He'd been so kind. So sensitive. A loving child his entire life. He recalled those words spoken of him like it was yesterday; his mum's smiling face as she said to him "you have a big heart..." 

Oh Harry remembered that but now so many years later after so many mistakes and acts of unkindness was Louis seeing the truth about what was hidden within. Why? Harry was literally daydreaming those words hearing them said in Anne's voice, seeing her face, even envisioning the route they were taking as she was driving him to football practice. 

Harry might have stayed in that daydream, that flashback to a better time for longer if his attention wasn't redirected to his here and now by Louis pinned under him speaking softly. 

"Curly, Harry, m'gonna confess. It's not really about your hair, oh, but your hair is amazing! So are your eyes, lips, dimples, your arse, your legs, your...um, everything little thing. But it's not any of that. It's just when I saw you, then I met you, something told me I could meet you in a thousand different lives, a thousand different stories and we'd still end up together like this....I love you and I can't say one reason alone is why. I just need this love." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The smut is long, eheh, what is wrong with me? And it's not over. Poor Harry all hard and ...


	28. Cutting to the heart

So it was that they were laying on the bed in Will's cabin. Harry wrapped his arms around the smaller lad pinned under him. He was consumed with a need to embrace Louis with his whole body. Yet any measure of contact wasn't quite fulfilling enough to Harry. He pressed their forms together, slid one hand under their entwined bodies seeking arc of Louis' lower back where his fingertips fanned out to just almost barely feel the upper most of Louis' bum. With his other hand he cupped the back of Louis' head, adjusting it meet him for a kiss.

This needed to be much more than just a kiss.

Louis' lips, thinner than Harry's took all Harry's concentration like he was calculating everything about them, trying to define the subtle things that made them so right pressed on his. The voice in Harry's head said, "These lips are perfect to me". Every little thing about Louis was made to fit Harry. 

Louis accepted Harry's kiss. Somehow to Harry it seemed that Louis was aware of his unspoken words; somehow Louis knew this was a reply. A confession of love couldn't come from Harry just yet. This kiss was all Harry could give. Trust was a dangerous thing. 

This was true. Louis didn't know what caused the pain was inside his boy but he really only wanted to be a part of Harry and let discoveries come in their natural time. He could be a rag doll for Harry for one tiny sliver of value in healing Harry's heart. 

What was seconds became minutes of languid kissing. Harry was pressing much of Louis' breath from him. Finally Louis was forced to make his need to move known without breaking their connection. Once Louis had freedom his hand to took ahold of Harry's dick. Two runs of its length with it gripped in Louis' fingers and Harry was moaning, unable to focus on the kiss anymore. Louis immmediatley slipped down in the bed to take Harry's cock into his mouth. His lips only had a brief, shallow taking of Harry before Harry was pulling Louis off, pleadingly gasping, "no, no, no..." 

"Yes, yes, yes Curly, Harry, please, please, please," 

Harry was facing the challenge of Louis like he'd experienced the day before when they made love in the field. Louis and his uncanny ability to destroy resistance with an assault of pleasure using his hands and mouth. His disarming ability to go from feisty, tiny lion to soft, adorable begging kitten. For Harry to keep his thoughts in order, he had to hold Louis off. All he wanted was to make this thing happening between them as good as he could for Louis, not take Louis for himself as a predator. His struggle to communicate came out broken. 

"Louis I'm gonna cum so quick if you do that. Not gonna last. Please...let me get you...want...you...riding...me..." 

The suggestion made Louis stop everything. 

He smiled an eye crinkling grin. Along with with Louis' eyelashes, the belly, the tiny nips, all the little things, this was one of Harry's favorite things about Louis. 

"Yes!" Louis said. Before Louis could get another move ahead of him Harry held Louis at his waist and made his request complete. 

"First though, but first Louis, you are so tight, babe, not gonna hurt you okay? Here," Harry directed Louis to turn around. "You let me watch you prep yourself for me. It's so hot to see you like that, like yesterday, struggling to get your tiny fingers in deep, your face all needy and desperate-looking." 

Louis laughed at this. He moved to come sitting straddling Harry facing away. He lowered his chest over Harry's legs so his bum was displayed for Harry. Harry handed him the jar of coconut and Louis took a clump with two fingers. When he parted his cheeks Harry was pleased to see his hole was so much more red, slightly puffer than when it was before; Harry had made it that way.

It was no challenge for Louis.to work two fingers into himself now. He'd benefited much from prepping curtesy of Harry's perfect mouth. He ran his fingers the length of his crack before each insertion. His fingers slid in like poetic-in-motion by virtue of a smooth rhythm he established tilting his bum in concert. Clearly Louis had perfected fucking himself as an art form. Soon he was using three fingers. He would slide them in, twist them, pull them out as he'd drag one cheek over with that same hand so Harry could get a glimpse of progress. It looked deliciously sinful and Harry found himself licking his lips like he could get off just eating Louis out again. Harry's moan over that thought suggested this desire which made Louis stop, spin around and face Harry still positioned over Harry's legs. 

Harry's face was a mix of things but mostly what Louis saw was his anguish, his hunger. 

And Louis smiled mischieviously as he delighted in noting that Harry's cock was hard and weeping in his hand. This was too intriguing. 

Louis seized the very straight, painfully erect dick with his hand going to grip it right above Harry's hand. The only warning Harry had of what was next was the brightening of devilishness and playful raising of eyebrows before Louis leaned down and licked the slit of Harry's dick. 

Harry jolted started to protest but Louis smiled at him with his lips still touching the head like in a kiss before he proceeded to slurp over the knob taking only the head into his mouth. He rolled the knob in the shallow hold barely allowing Harry the pleasure, quickly switching making another pass with a lick of his tongue running over Harry's slit. Harry jolted again. Gasping Louis name he closed his eyes feeling so good that he was now the one on the edge of pain. 

Hiding behind his closed lids Harry felt Louis push his hand down and take a good amount of his entire cock squeezing on the downward and coming up with moist sensation suggesting Louis was running the tip of his tongue along the pronounced vein. Harry had nothing in him to stop the effect. He erupted as soon as Louis was on another downward flow. 

Louis felt the hot squirt hit the back of his throat when he was committed to taking Harry deeply. It came as little surprise because he wanted this when he played with Harry's knob. He swallowed and moaned to convey it was good. Harry was shouting protests through the response of his body as he came with a powerful jerk fading into a series of trembles. Allt he while Louis continued to suck and swallow. 

When Louis finally let Harry's hands that had gone into his hair to pull him off and up. Louis was smirking. Quite pleased. He met Harry's green eyes that looked to him like he'd granted salvation. He laughed at the expression on Harry face which morphed from gratitude into something like exasperation over Louis having sucked him off. 

"Why did you do that? I wanted to be inside you..." 

Louis cut Harry off with a kiss. He sealed Harry's desire to express his feelings. Frustration unspoken Harry was only allowed to focus on their kiss. 

"And so you will Curly." Louis said when he eventually move to nibble on Harry's neck, the ticklish skin under his jaw, his earlobes. Louis wondered when Harry would regain senses enough to realize he still held Harry's dick with one hand and he still kept it engaged. Would Harry realize the orgasm let his body have some release but there was still need building in him for more? 

Clarvoyent, Louis may have been because the next words out of Harry were about his surprise. 

"What are you doing to me Louis? Why am I feeling this deep...so hard...again...so hard in your hand...need..." 

Without allowing Harry to finish Louis was answering in actions. His hand still never left Harry's dick as he moved his bum over Harry's pelvis and played with their bodies newly aligned there. He saw the reality dawning slowly in Harry's post-orgasmic-brain-lag; orgasm or not Harry was still hard, still needing more. 

Louis rocked his hips so their bodies glided against each other's; he made Harry's mostly erect and stiffening quick dick slide along the slick remaining from his prep. Louis teased Harry by starting to direct Harry's knob into his hole then pulling away and making Harry slide between his bum cheeks. This Louis repeated several times, nearly taking Harry, then slipping his dick into the wonderfully full, wet passage between cheeks. Always Louis kept a hand on Harry to feel the building pressure this torment created. 

"Curly you want me to get you off again from just this, hum?" Louis whispered and played with Harry's knob just bobbling at the rim of his entrance. He loved seeing how Harry's face was made into winches and furrows over brow as he just nearly put Harry in, but did not. 

"Please Louis, please..." Harry's words trailed off as Louis allowed Harry to have only a slight penetration, his pelvis hovering so Harry had to languish there. 

"Curly, maybe I'll fuck you like this, just feel your knob against me hole keeping you just like this," 

To imply this was his decision Louis rocked his pelvis so his body which held only the very head of Harry's penis roll Harry's knob with the undulation. Harry was so hard and ready for this that Louis didn't have to use the hand anymore to keep Harry held there. Instead he had his hands on either side of Harry's hips pressing down to emphasize he was going to keep Harry his prisoner like this. 

Louis fucked Harry shallow, taunting him. "Mmm Curly, this is good, s'good just feeling you stretching me with your big, fat dick. Might even cum from this." 

How long could he do this? Louis wasn't actually sure. As it felt so good to tease Harry and himself. Louis really wanted so very, very much to slowly ride down on that dick and run it against his prostrate. Test how long he could keep himself just there without coming. His own dick was swaying less with each undulation of his pelvis because the teasing dicking was making him more and more hard too. 

This soon became much too intense for Harry. He had it with the waiting. His hands grabbed hard on each shoulder. He pull Louis down onto him sudden and forceful. 

Louis took bottoming out on Harry with a dramatic arch of his back, a gasp, allowing his head to fall back. Harry was both pleased with every sensation his body got and shocked at Louis' response. Was it pain or was it pleasure? Uncertain Harry's hands released from Louis like they were shocked off. 

But then Louis brought his head forward and he was smiling. He rolled his hips while bottomed out speaking through and unwavering grin with a hint of naughtiness to it, "Oh, yes, baby, yes, s'good," 

Louis want this. He didn't want Harry to withdraw or become timid. Harry focused on the freedom to take what he needed was the goal Louis had in mind as he began this path. Slowly he lifted up exposing much of Harry's length as he breathily whispered a call back to Harry's instructions the day that they were riding back from this very cabin following his riding accident, "so, so good Harry, see, mm'even looking where I'm riding to." 

It was game on. 

Harry looked up at Louis. Louis was tilted forward and hovering much like he was in "two-point". And he was smiling at Harry with all the playfulness, mischievousness that this began with. 

Also, it occurred to Harry, that Louis was quite deliberately holding himself there suspended over Harry to force him to take notice that their connection was nearly broken. Louis wanted Harry to burn in the want to be more in him. Hovering, stilled, eyes fixed on Harry's, Louis' back was arched giving his bum a lift, his thighs showed every muscle in detained perfection. Louis made certain Harry's eyes returned to looking into his before he drove himself back down quick and hard on Harry with the unspoken intention to say was the act of impaling himself was the greatest pleasure. 

Harry's face twisted with the change in friction the movement provided. Louis loved seeing the almost pained-looking transformation. He laughed a kind of laugh one releases when unexpectedly surprised by something that seems to be too good to be real. To Louis this was exactly the thing. Fucking Harry felt too good. Unreal. 

And so it was. The two kept their eyes fixed on the other as Louis rode Harry taking long slow rides up to expose so much of Harry that it was nearly parting them; Louis' body barely holding Harry's knob at his rim. Then he descended rapidly after a momentary pause at the top. Sliding back down on Harry Louis went fast and forceful such that his own dick slapped between them each time he hit bottom. To add to the effect on bottoming out Louis thrusted the tilt of his pelvis hoping to give Harry a double sensation as well as stroke himself just right against the hard cock buried within him. There was only a brief split of a second with that when Louis closed his eyes because Louis wanted to keep staring into Harry's heavenly soothing green.

Like this the time passed until their bodies were both coated in sweat, dripping and wet. Louis had taken to using his hands to hold onto Harry with his fingers threaded through luscious curls that were now drenched. Harry's hands were less decided; sometimes they rested on Louis' waist, fanning so they got slight sensations of each movement of hips. Other times they went to grip a punishingly tight hold on Louis' thighs. Always they sent information back to Harry's brain about the paradox. So small, so strong was Louis. 

It was when Louis got that feeling like he couldn't hold off from the rub of Harry's cock against his prostrate that he knew he was in trouble. He stopped pressing himself so Harry was there, right there. He was on the edge. It occurred to Louis that he has lost himself in this fucking. He looked more deeply into Harry's eyes and found Harry's entire expression had changed. Harry's face was no longer twisted and convuluted by the pleasure; he was just dark, pupils wide, lustfull, intense. 

Louis made another rise, he seated deeply and his body fell apart. 

Harry felt the hot jizz splatter from mid chest to chin. It alerted him of Louis' orgasm because he was shouting over Louis' admission with his own body breaking free. His feeling of coming apart made him grab for Louis and pull their bodies together. The pulses of a clenching hole on his dick Harry had to wait for until they were past the most intense part of the orgasm and breathlessly lying there still as one. Louis was over top of Harry chest where Harry had brought him. One last minute contraction of Louis body was all it took to cause Harry's dick to slip out of Louis' body on a slick of cum. The gooey, hot spunk ran down from Louis dripping between Harry's legs. In a passing thought Harry wished he could be polite enough to to spare their host's bed the violation but at the moment he couldn't care enough to stop it. All he needed was this. Louis plastered on top of him. Exhausted and wrecked. Both satisfied beyond measure. 

Something in Harry's heart felt home. 

*** 

Harry woke with a bit of disorientation but it was Louis' voice his mind that he was waking to. But as he shifted a tiny bit he realized that the words his mind was hearing were little broken statements, or snippets of things Louis was saying raspy and broken while they were fucking just a little while ago. Delayed understanding. 

Harry's mind cleared more and sure enough Louis wasn't talking. They were in Will's bed. Louis was asleep, spooning him. 

Next Harry remembered that his last thought was about this bed which they had soiled and the guilt he should feel for that but then Louis had taken him away again before he could act to clean up their mess. 

Unlike the utopia of lost in fucking Louis Tomlinson euphoria, after they came Louis took Harry away to different place. A place of emotions; post-coital snuggling. Louis entangled Harry in his arms. A leg threaded between Harry's. His breath warming the back of Harry's neck. It felt good. Like home. Again. 

Harry decided it was too comforting and that he really couldn't move yet. Not with Louis' breath so peaceful, so clearly suggesting he was soundly sleeping. 

So Harry laid there trying to be still. He thought back about the sex and he realized that indeed among all the tormenting and teasing and pleasuring Louis had been talking between pants, gasps and moans. 

Not saying complete sentences. Random words were thrown out about the fucking, yes, but he'd been also saying other things to Harry. Things Harry focused on now with curiosity. Things that etched into Harry's brain. 

The word "safe". Harry distinctly recalled Louis said "safe". Safe? 

The incomplete sentence "harbor your so". Louis said that too, Harry recalled because it was nautical and now as he thought about it the use of a nautical term during sex seemed odd. It had to be deliberate. It was also incomplete. In the replay of the words Harry only recalled Louis said three words before he yelped and that ended whatever he was trying to say. 

The only complete sentence Louis managed to speak really mystified Harry. "Feels so good in there." Louis said. 

Sure, this was at least a common expression. Harry had heard it so many times before during sex when he chose to be bottoming. Certainly Liam said it. Reluctantly, yes. With self loathing? Yes, that too. In fact each and every time Harry had seduced Liam he said it "feels so good to be in there". More or less. But then Liam was always topping so it made sense in the context. 

Louis said those words when it was Harry balls deep in Louis. 

What then was Louis talking about? Harry shifted a little as he pondered which stirred Louis. Louis reacted to Harry's movement by pull himself tighter against Harry's back with little change to the rhythm of his sleeping breath. Harry glanced over at the clock on the bedside table and realized he would need to wake this pixie before Will got back. 

Given how he was so confused Harry found that he wished he could have a chance to talk to Will. Like he wanted to leave Louis sleeping, investigate secrets with the old man to advise. Harry needed help with all the stuff, questions, that Louis was putting in his head. Did he knowingly a little sliver of himself was lodged in Harry's head and it was cutting a path directly to Harry's heart? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, irony, I'm having massive headaches because...hahaha I actually took a nasty fall off a horse at high speed. So my usual typos warning applies. I'm thinking when this wraps up at Will's cabin there's another smut-fest coming as part of the Bar 3 timeline, and yes, there will be a Threesome update. I miss Zayn too much to let him go!
> 
> And always please don't be shy about comments.


	29. ...if you fell into darkness

Harry was carrying Louis piggyback with Louis riding him both figuratively and literally. They had just stepped off the deck of Will's cabin. 

It had been fun-loving banter between them when they returned out into the bright sunlight. Louis was teasing Harry for being "so domestic"; Harry refused to leave the cabin without first removing the dirty sheets from Will's bed and putting them into the washing machine. Harry was perplexed at first when Louis somewhat jumped off subject, talking like he was addressing someone other than him. 

Harry looked up and sure enough bringing their horses to a stop was Wil. Coming by horse as well, with a too knowingly smile, was Kyla. Harry saw Kyla hand Will something once Will dismounted. Slightly caught off guard by the two's arrival Harry unceremoniously dumped Louis to the ground. 

In contrast to Harry's surprise Louis' response to them was playful and completely unabashedly brazen. He walked up to Kyla, stood with a hand on one hip and challenged, "Did you just give Will some money? Were you making bets on us?" 

Will petted his horse and held up some cash to verify.

"Yeah, we had a bet." Kyla said, "Will said you would be respectful of time and I wagered that we find you oblivious being totally preoccupied with having a good dicking."

Harry blushed. Louis laughed harder. 

Will hid a smile under the brim of his cowboy hat. He said, "Prince Harold here is a gentleman of good manners, Kyla. Not everyone thinks of sex all the time." The comment showed his relationship with the young woman was at ease and open. 

Will tied his horse and went over to get the two loose horses Harry and Louis had left carelessly. In their urgency for each other hours earlie. Neither lad had given the horses a second thought once they entered the cabin. Fortunately the horses just stayed around eating grass. 

Picking up the reins which the horses had drug around as they grazed Will organized them. It was clear Kyla that had riden over to fetch Harry and Louis and encountered Will returning. 

Will held the two horses ready and turned to Kyla. "Like I was saying, the neighbor's found most their of cattle. Some are still missing though. Probably those are the cows they bought from me when I sold my herd off two years ago. Pretty sure I can gather the rest of the critters up and get them to their rightful home if I could have these two boys to help me, say next Saturday maybe. That would be good for me because it's going to take us more than just a few hours." 

Will looked like he was considering what he'd just said and weighing the challenge. He added "It might be best actually, if I had two or three more riders to help too. You think you can ask if that loner, the Brit who wants to be a cowboy, if he would come help. He's a good hand, it seems. And might be best to have one or two more, experienced horsemen, like I said. With this Louis we got a wild card enough. Don't think I need two like him." 

Will winked affectionately at Louis. Louis who he called "this Louis" to emphasize Louis was a force to recon with. Good or bad was left to one's own opinion. 

Louis was laughing again but not at the humor Will intended by his remark about Louis. 

"Liam? A loner? Ha, ha, not so much really. More like since he..."

Harry grabbed Louis and muffled the intended words. He was pretty sure Louis was going to call Liam whipped. Or worse. This lead to the two becoming lost in playfully wrestling with each other. Harry's greater size was challenged by Louis' relentless determination and unfair tactics. Twice he pinched Harry's nipples with an amazing quickness. Will and Kyla dismissed them as the idiots they were and kept talking about future plans for collecting stray cattle.

"I'll see what I can do. The boys are not my area. Thank god." Kyla said, her attention drawn to "the boys" when Harry yelped because Louis hit him in the balls to break free from a stronghold Louis was wrapped in. 

Will ended their contest by taking Louis gently, very gently Harry noticed, away from Harry. Will guided Louis over to where he could get on his horse and never said a world throughout the gentle extraction. It was some of the cowboy way to handle wild things like that, like Louis, with calmness and gentleness.

Harry saw the sign from Kyla to mount up too and went to his horse. He hated to leave. He wanted to stay forever; spending his time between smothering Louis in passion and learning from this wise old man how to gentle wild things. How to manage them when they start roaming around inside your heart. 

"Five or six of us should do, but Kyla those old cows of mine like to run my ranch. Most likely they took their calves up to the tender grass by the lake. Better send the boys over on Saturday with bed rolls, extra clothes prepared for an over-night. I'll have them back sometime late Sunday if things go well." 

"Okay Will. I'll ask. These two have to stay out of trouble though." She said pointing at them. "That's not always easy. Is it Louis?" 

Louis faked a look of surprise and innocence. It was clear he knew of what she referred to. Harry was mid-way getting onto his horse so he couldn't approach like Louis did when Kyla called Louis over with a finger signal to bring his horse close to hers. She whispered. 

All Harry could be certain of was that he might have heard the words "prank" and "Australians". To which Louis said to her through a mischievous grin, "M'don't know what you're talking about." 

***

Three riders left Will's ranch. Two of them were giddy. Was it the "dicking" as Kyla called it?

Kyla withstood several minutes of their overtly sexual references as they rode. Louis kept rubbing his nipples teasingly while staring at Harry. Harry in return was flicking his tongue rapidly at Louis. Having enough of this display Kyla kicked her horse into a trot and put a few horse-lengths between herself and them. 

"See what you've done Curly. You better go apologize." 

Harry's thoughts were to argue how it was Louis' fault, Louis should go apologize, but then the knawing memory of the mention of "Australians" got the better of his curiosity. He left Louis behind and took his horse up along side Kyla's. For several minutes she pretended he wasn't there and quietly ignoring him as she rode. 

"M'sorry. And thanks. Thanks for today. And for next weekend." 

Kyla was known for being discrete. It was essential to her job. So when she looked back to see if Louis was out of earshot Harry knew her comments were private. 

"No promises about next weekend, Harry, but maybe it will happen given how you've been changing lately. You've come so far since Louis got here. It's noticeable to your counselor and your mentors. It's like something has changed with all of you boys actually. Liam, Niall and Zayn, but you, most of all. As the one who has been here the longest this is overdue with you. Stay the course Harry. Embrace this path your finally taking and move on. People can't hid here forever. You couldn't continue on fucking with Liam and avoiding yourself." 

Harry knew this. There was a quite break and then Kyla said more. "The thing is since a switched flipped with you there's talk that you are now making rapid steps to graduation. The party at the bonfire, it's this quarter's celebration where some boys get their papers indicating they are cleared to go home in the next several weeks. If you had been doing all along like you've been doing recently that list could have included you Harry. And Harry, Zayn was cleared to leave." 

This was a shock to Harry. He knew how it worked at Bar 3, but still Kyla's words "Zayn was cleared" was unexpected. 

Regardless of when a person started the program at Bar 3, each boy came for the program that ran for a period of time that varied by quarters of the year. A few who were very successful in turning themselves around, left after one full quarter. Spending two full quarters was not unheard of but most lads were in the program for three. Some lads were there for more than a year. While the exact day they left was variable all departing attendees had to develope their own plans for carrying forward with goals they set up to avoid getting back into the kind of trouble that brought them into the program. Always the idea was to make leaving Bar 3 a launch into a productive future. Not falling down again and facing criminal internment. Wealthy families who sent their children to Bar 3 expected clear results. 

Harry had a lot of questions with this news even though he initially really only intended to ask Kyla about the Louis and Australians. Now Kyla was saying that he was being considered for advancement. And Zayn was already offered an exit? He had a ton of questions even though these things were not Kyla's to divulge. And Zayn hadn't said a single thing, nothing, at all to the group of them about himself. Harry asked himself why, but he knew the answer to that in his heart. Just as he was in love, so was Zayn. Harry looked back at Louis riding behind them to see with his eyes that Louis wasn't an illusion, this wasn't a dream, that the thing he loved was real. Watching Louis riding several horse lengths behind them Harry could imagine that for Zayn with Liam and Niall it was exactly the same. 

Harry watched Louis for a minute. His skin was kissed in the afternoon glow of the sun. Louis epitomized what to Harry was perfection. He held his reins in one hand riding western style and he was playing with the mane of his horse with his other hand. Louis looked completely absorbed with this until he noticed Harry was watching him. When he dropped the mane to avoid looking like a distracted child his wrist let his hand hang off it with a delicate, gracefulness that made Harry hunger for its touch. Louis smiled at Harry probably thinking he knew he was supposed to ride with focus not just daydream. His face made its adorable crinkles and he scrunched his nose, before sticking his tongue out at Harry. Harry ached to put his hand against the side of Louis' face cupping it and feeling the beautiful skin under a sweep of his finger across Louis' cheekbone. Yes, Louis might be perfect to Harry, but... 

"But I'm not ready to go home, home is, it's..." Harry said turning to Kyla with his anxiety evidenced in his voice. 

"I know what you mean Harry. I do." Kyla looked back at Louis and his Louis-ness, "this Louis", which made her laugh. "I really do Harry. So does Will. That's why we're planning this cattle drive okay? Knowing Will I can imagine he found those cows already but drove them up to create an excuse. He likes you boys. I think that Will sees a lot of himself in you. And I think he believes Louis is like Francie reincarnated. He actually told me that very thing when we were riding over to his earlier. I never met Francie but I know it was a life they were never allowed to openly have. So much hate. About people like them. He misses Francie and it makes him want to support others. You may be here for problems you don't know how to manage but Will believes in you Harry. I do too. It never made sense you stalking Liam. It's not my place, so I'm not asking why you did that. But there was a world of change in you when Louis came. In all of you actually, but, in you most of all. With you refocused it allowed Liam to open up. Niall has been just floating. Zayn is behaving real and not just like a phantom of perfection. So I do understand that there's something about Louis. And you. But you need to let yourself move on." 

Harry looked like he was going to cry. "Oh jeez, Harry, don't cry. I don't mean like that. Not like dump Louis! When you go back to England you can wait for him, at home. Naturally you can't write to him here or call him, but you can write to his home address so when he's done here you can hook up. Every one has to leave eventually, Harry." 

"What if I can't? Kyla I heard you say something about the Australians. Is..." 

"You have to forget about them. Trust me, Louis is not going to become anyone's victim. You can't stay until he cycles through to protect him, no one can Harry. The only exception I know is that Zayn has some option apparently, not that I know any of the details. It's a case that is very specific. It's the first time I think they've offered an exception. It seems that even possibility of the exception is tenuous." 

Harry was confused. "What? Wait? Zayn? Didn't you just say Zayn is cleared to leave?"

Kyla took her horse off at a trot. Harry had to do the same to catch up. It was not a great effort but her look back to verify Louis was still beyond hearing range told Harry she might be prepared to explain. Very privately. 

"Harry, I'm not in the loop, I'm the lesson girl, this is not for me to tell you. If Zayn hasn't said anything, well, that's Zayn. He needs to work it out. But like with you, Liam and Niall he is not the same Zayn. Louis was a catalyst when he arrived. Zayn though has always stayed out of trouble and I think he works with his counselor. Until Louis came I don't think he fit in; unlike everyone here he's the only Muslim. With Louis though, he found something. He became socially normal. And the things fell into place more with Liam and Niall. It's always been harder for Zayn here as an outsider and yet now, he's happy here. But he has to go. It's his time. It's just that then something came up that gives him an option." 

"What is unusual, creating some uncertainty, as I understand is that a new boy is coming to Bar 3. He too is Muslim. And he's gay. He has huge problems that may have nothing to do with that. Maybe..." Kyla drifted in her thoughts like she was speculating. 

Her confidence restored, Kyla went on, "But think about it Harry." 

"Liam. He's been in a rage for what? How long? Because he's suppressed? And his big hang up has no cultural-religious element. Unlike with Zayn, I think the counselors think the new boy will not have the slightest of chance if he's isolated here. He needs another simpatico. They got this applicant right after they began the processing for Zayn. Apparently they asked Zayn if he wanted to volunteer to stay for another quarter." 

Harry almost blurted out that he would do it, because, yes, in a heart beat Harry would stop the world and stay if he were in Zayn' s shoes. But then he realized this was not about him. Kyla continued on. 

"Apparently in Zayn's goals for when he leaves are plans for going to Uni for art. He also wants to incorporate as a secondary study in therapy. His statement about it was something like he realizes how art can be therapeutic and he's interested in doing something where he combines both, particularly for helping struggling kids. Zayn likes how this program helps young people in a unique way. I think because of those goals and that he's Muslim Zayn was offered a chance to stay for a quarter as a volunteer to help the new boy adjust. He'll be able to use this as a work study and transition into a formal program back home."

Home.

Harry looked back behind them. Louis was home.

*** 

The week that followed Kyla and Harry's brief talk was an endless roller coaster for Harry. 

It was the last week of September. In the mountains of the American west things happened with a seasonal predictability. The raptors were seen flying their migration route following the ridges of the highest peaks along the ranges that made up the Rockies. The aspens were losing their green to shades of gold. Dogwood shrubs like the one that caught Louis and Sweetie in their mountainside washout misadventure were changing their leaves from green to red. 

For the program attendees this was when they looked forward to the end of summer quarter with a barbecue party around a huge bonfire. It was one of the four times a year when announcements were made about who "graduated". 

Zayn was on that list. Harry learned this from Kyla and yet Zayn said nothing on the several occasions that followed Harry learning about it. Zayn also had said nothing about possibilities to stay on when Harry brought it up once when the five were having lunch together. Harry tried several times to fish for information. Like was typical, Zayn remained mysterious. 

Was this because of the sensitivity about the incoming Muslim lad? As Harry sat at lunch with Zayn, Liam, Louis and Niall he pondered this. Zayn was so happy. He was with his lads, his two lovers, his best bro, how could he not be happy. 

Zayn was laughing at something whispered between he and Louis. Those two were partners in crime in many many ways. Zayn's once painfully aloof shyness was one of the things Louis transformed. Louis could always get Zayn laughing with him. Often their reason for the laughter was not shared. It was how they were when together and the other three had grown accustom to it. 

Studying his mates as they are Harry looked at each one, one at a time to study them. Liam was probably the most transformed. He was no longer a loner. Not in the slightest. Mr-big-dick took on a daddy role in the group from the UK. He frequently made sure they all knew where they were supposed to be, what they were supposed to do. He also had a tendency to tell whomever, usually Louis, to be careful when they went to do anything where there might be risks. Like if someone was riding where the terrain would be snakie, he'd tell them to be careful, they were working in snake habitat. Most distinctively different was how Liam went from working alone by choice to working with a team. Usually Zayn and Niall. The three were somehow connected at all times and Liam doted over them. 

At this time Liam and Niall were engaged some conversation and ignoring that Louis was throwing bits from his salad at them. Each piece that hit Liam and stuck on him Niall picked off and ate. At one point when Louis was down to just lettuce Niall turned to Louis and said, "well? Keep it coming."

Niall. The Irishman was transformed since Louis came by being a gregarious lad where he once was someone who hid all the time. His affable nature was exuberant and he made everyone around him take on some leprechaun buzz of peace and harmony. 

Zayn. Harry waited to reflect on Zayn last. How would Niall and Liam manage without him? 

Harry asked himself that as Zayn's physical contact with Louis at the table became boarder line homoerotic; he was trying to get Louis to stop throwing food. He had an arm draped around Louis with a hand over Louis' left nipple. He began rubbing the shirt over the nipple to distract Louis from the mischief. It was effective. Louis went into a trance and zoned out staring at his salad. Niall and Liam looked at Zayn with each giving him a nod of graditue. It was funny too because they both clearly felt no jealousy. This was just Zayn using fabled snake charming methods to take the sass out of hyper-energetic Louis. 

After a brief further study of Zayn, vexingly complicated Zayn, Harry looked at Louis.

Louis.

As much as Harry angst for Niall and Liam loosing Zayn there was a deeper angst Harry felt for himself. How could he not? If he was to work hard and succeed in advancing by the end of the next quarter he would leave Louis behind here for at least several months, maybe even half a year. 

Harry's agonizing and fonding over Louis must have gotten intense to witness because Liam and Niall broke into his daze by commenting to each other on it. Only then did Harry realize that he was chewing on his index finger, lost in a trance. Staring with creepy lusting at Louis. 

The two called Harry out on it.

Harry was defending himself from their teasing remarks when a counselor, Zayn's, approached their table. He asked Zayn come with him. Harry couldn't help but wonder if this was a routine meetng or was this about the new guy, the other Muslim lad? Harry watched Zayn being led away with curiosity but as soon as Louis lost his best bro mate he turned to Harry. Under the table Harry felt Louis touching him. Like no other, Harry thought, Louis had this insatiable sex drive. His hand slid up Harry's inner thigh and he pressed it on Harry's penis. Flaccid became curious. Harry forgot all questions about Zayn. 

*** 

That was exactly how Harry found himself standing hidden from view behind some stacked pallets that were stored in back of a barn with Louis on his knees looking up at Harry. Louis' eyes had a playful and devious expression. His lips parted as he slid Harry's cock between pink and wet, Louis moaned. Theloversmoan. Telling of his hunger for Harry. 

So Harry forgot everything but how this felt. Everything he was worried about, the possibility he'd leave after one more quarter, Zayn's prospects, the Australians. 

Harry tried to interject his only immediate concern. With a pull on Louis' hair he protested, "Not safe here Louis, too risky to get caught!" 

He saw the flash of dissatisfaction in Louis' face when Louis looked up at him then it was gone replaced with a sudden determination. A furrowing of eyebrows. 

In a fraction of a second Louis was back to focusing on Harry's mostly semi at best cock. Sliding it deep, abler to do this only by its slightly flaccid condition Louis his nose in close enough to touch Harry's body with the tip. Keeping himself pressed there Louis swallowed a few times and hummed. It created a tantalizing sensation. Harry knew he was getting harder and like proof Louis had to back off to avoid suffrocating. 

Harry tried to avoid looking down and let his head fall back so he could watch the scattering clouds in the blue sky as they moved overhead. Down at his feet he heard Louis make a cock-muffled cough, yet another confirmation of Harry's erection growing. It took Harry a second or two to realize a growing lightheadedness, which at first he thought was from following a cloud overhead, was caused by his rapid breathing, the panting out his desire for more of what Louis was giving him. 

He moaned and made a faint remark about "getting caught". This place Louis chose was so exposed. Anyone could come across behind the barns. To make matters worse this had begun with some deep tongue kissing during which Harry had unfastened Louis' pants and pulled them slightly down. If someone walked up it would be a great look at Louis kneeling before Harry, sucking cock, his beautiful booty bared. Just that idea made Harry give up some precum. Louis whined for it, pulled off to lick the tip and flick his tongue over Harry's slit as a hopeful invite more beads of precum to reveal. 

This was going to be one for the record books Harry realized as Louis took Harry's balls in one gently cradling touch of a hand while the other hand seized Harry's cock firmly. The hand held Harry's cock to the side so Louis could take Harry's cradled ball into a wet, hot mouth. Harry could no longer make more protests about their exposure. He could only lose himself in this. 

When the sensation became almost too stimulating Harry's hands seized Louis' hair just as his body made an involuntary-like reaction with his hips jerking forward. He wanted Louis to do what he was doing and he wanted Louis to go back to his dick which was aching for Louis. It hung heavily when fully erect, beyond what one of Louis' small hands could span. 

"Okay Louis, please, suck me babe, suck me until I come down your throat you flilthy thing, you, pleazze!" A guttural moan escaped following the plead. Harry's head pressed back more into the barn behind him as Louis moved to do his bidding. 

He immediately flushed with the reward of thrusting a length of himself, a length that would gag even the most skilled, into Louis unapologetically when Louis went back to suck him off. Deep throating was never something in Harry's nature to force upon someone even in the height of his phase of manipulating and taking lovers to use. It just wasn't his thing, so he dropped his head forward opening eyes to look in fright at Louis. He feared to risk the look because he shocked himself with how this unprecedented brutality overtook him; Harry's discovery was even more of a surprise. 

The calmness on Louis' face suggested that Louis' acceptance of Harry's overture was his own greatest pleasure. Louis' countenance showed no concern although his closed eyelids couldn't hold back accidental release of a few tears from the strain with Harry's size. Harry gasped at the beauty and the sensations Louis elicited. Next he saw Louis' eyelashes start to flutter. This caused a moan to escape Harry, the uncontrollable expression of ecstasy which encouraged Louis more. 

More fluttering of lashes foreshadowed intent as Louis' eyes opened. He looked up to return Harry's watchfulness. Once their eyes met Louis hummed as he backed most of Harry's length out to where only a small hand held it at its base before he sunk Harry's length into his mouth again. With his eyes once more closed he made that sort of noise that suggested willfulness; like Harry was delicious. An obscene slurping noise mixed with a moan of intent to deep throat again indicated that Louis was enjoying taking as much of Harry as he could manage. 

"Fuck Louis, oh fuck," Harry said with relief and softness. 

He tried to make his hands be gentle in touching Louis. He tried to not force the back of Louis head forward. He tried to not to thrust himself deep again and again but Louis was unraveling him. It was the rhythm that undid Harry; the way Louis hummed as he sucked coming off. The way he ran the tip of his tongue along Harry's vein as he sunk down. How Louis' other hand offered arousing tenderness and firmness on Harry's cock, balls, even fingering Harry's hole while his mouth worked cock. 

That mouth weakened Harry's legs with all of this. 

Louis had one hand on the base of Harry's cock which he shifted to grip alternating a strangle hold and a release with each passage his mouth made. Simultaneously Louis' other hand moved to caress Harry's balls with a tickling playfulness making Harry wish he could pause a minute. Maybe he could ask for Louis to lick them, or suck them again. Maybe. To feel that tongue and those lips for a bit with the expertise of Louis' teasingly perfection focusing on his balls, just maybe one little bit more? Or maybe not. He was nearing the edge. 

Harry repeated a mantra mindlessly of saying "Fuck Louis, oh fuck...." until pleasure muffled him by demanding his full attention. 

Silence. It came when Harry felt needle-tip sized pricks of tingling begin to wash over his skin and he choked his words with a heart-stopping gasp. This tingling sensation that began as diffused across the surface of his entire body became more concentrated and targeted. It found its crescendo as he orgasmed with such power that he teetered on that pleasure pain boundary until he felt his body weaken and his vision darken. His fading thought? Louis swallowed all of him. 

It was not a complete blackout that took Harry to the ground out behind a barn at a busy ranch. It was Louis guiding Harry down with a reassuring hold to keep Harry from a fall. Louis was laughing about Harry's faintness as much as he was laughing at himself, coughing and a bit choked from being the cause of it. Simply put Harry had never had an orgasm that. He had never felt as much like his cells were exploding indivually, sweeping across his body in a rush like he was disintegrating. 

They laid there together on the ground Harry's mind blissed into non-sensibility and Louis' self-satisfied amusement rendering them each content. They wrapped arms and limbs together and remained quiet. Each had a need to regain breath, calm their heart rate, enjoying being pressed into one.

Harry suddenly felt like he was a man devoid of all energy; like it had been literally sucked out of him. He had this sado-erotic image as he drifted almost falling into sleep. In the sleep-boundary Harry had a vision took him up like he was viewing them from high up in those clouds he'd followed at the start of this, like a person having an out of body view of themself. 

In his dream viewscape, Louis was on his knees like a servant. Harry's view drifted down closer like a snowflake falling slowly and revealed more detail of this fantasy. Louis wasn't recumbent; he was actually devouring Harry. In a yet closer view Harry saw that indeed there were colorful cloud-like trails of energy that were visible evidence of a connection between them. The most of these clouds concentrated around where Louis' mouth and Harry's body met. Transparent, flowing rays revealed that Louis was sucking Harry's life force through Harry's dick much like some vampire as he drew from Harry his orgasm and swallowed Harry's cum. 

Harry's last, wakeful idea was that maybe he was impossibly tired for that precise reason, because Louis had fed from him. Then Harry's dream burst from the nearly disturbing erotic fantasy into bright light and he realized he'd fallen asleep. Laying on the hard ground beside a stack of wood pallets with Louis pressed into him tightly it was sunny and peaceful. Birds were busy around the ranch but most the sounds of people were difficult to find. It was like they were alone on the earth. 

"Louis? You sleeping? 

The nuzzling against his neck told Harry yes but Louis stated the contrary. "M'not. Just day dreaming." Louis finished his words with a tap of his index finger on Harry's chest at the approximate position of Harry's heart. 

Harry missed the symbolic implication of the touch. His mind was still tripping from the dream. 

"I had this dream. It was weird. Like you were sucking the life out of me, through my dick, feeding on me. Only it wasn't like blood or anything, it was so weird. And kinda hot too. But really weird, dark." 

Louis put a hand in Harry's locks and played with the curls by twisting some hair around a finger.

"Currr-leee m'not...if you fell into darkness I'd pull you back."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Several things made this late: I had this so beautifully written with the weirdness of ao3 slowdowns and the damage to my iPad I accidentally deleted that hard-worked version. Hope I got it right from memory. I'm a bit devastated because I thing I lost too much of the originally of more clever dialog and made the rewrite wordy.
> 
> Maybe it's okay though. Sorry. And foreshadowing? Do you see it foreshadows what happened when Harry surfed? I'm going to work more at the timeline change not being confusing.
> 
> Happy Halloween, leave comments and be sure to do something wicked!


	30. Harry's treasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is worried about whether they will be able to go on a cattle drive. A gorgeous stranger arrives to the program at Bar 3. He takes a liking to Louis.

It wasn't long after the two resumed their afternoon work before it was dinner time and Harry was anxious to speak with Louis. What was hours apart felt like days to Harry.  


And he had questions. Many. Still unanswered.

A few were simple. Harry hadn't heard whether the plan Kyla and Will were working on to hopefully let them to go with Will to help round up missing cattle was approved. He hoped Louis would know more than he since Louis was doing a daily lesson with Kyla's group of girls! this Louis saw her each afternoon. 

Another thing Harry hoped to confirm was whether Liam, Niall and Zayn would be going too. In Harry's ideal fantasy it needed to be so because if staff wranglers from Bar 3 went to help, or some less tolerant group of lads, the fear for Harry was they would ruin the perfection of a camping up at the lake.

Maybe it the things developing between he and Louis or maybe it was envy for what Will and Francie had, but whatever the cause Harry had vivid dreams about how he and Louis would be together, things they would do, at that alpine lake. Like memories in photographs, the stories told through fading black and white pictures at Will's cabin. Harry wanted he and Louis to create some memories to have forever. That's what consumed him. 

Two as one. Forever.

Fantasies aside what Harry really needed was to see Louis. Maybe it was the lingering effect of the blow job. It had been surreal, metaphysical and unlike anything Harry had ever experienced. 

As Harry walked alone to dinner he came across other groups of lads also going to the great lodge. Weaving past them he heard a few bits of conversations as he pressed on, his stride quicken by need of reuniting with Louis. 

Gossip. One of the primary things to tell tales about was the "raison d'être" behind each person coming to Bar 3. Louis' enrollment in the program had been one of two favorite subjects of gossip since Louis was the most recent person to join the program. The other hot topic of gossip was about who was getting the better on the Australians with a string of recent pranks. Harry was now privy to the answer to the latter, while it was mystery to most lads in the program, both topics of gossip were every bit about Louis. 

Harry was concerned about this pranking but in retrospect he also felt there was a huge void, vast unknowns about Louis; like everyone else Harry knew nothing about what offenses brought Louis to Bar 3. That type of private information was always something which would have to be shared by each boy themself as they saw fit to tell others. The program at Bar 3 didn't require confessions for maturing through it but eventually most of the boys did reveal their past infractions. Usually those who felt they had the biggest chance of being an alpha among their peers were the quickest to talk, boasting actually, about themselves to jockey for power. 

In Harry's case he had no problems revealing his reason for coming to the program. Even if stories about what he did with Grimshaw upon arriving at Bar 3 hadn't leaked out, Harry had conquests at the ranch with two fellow students shortly after the incident with Nick and within the first two weeks at the ranch. Stories about this rapidly spread. Those two boys had long since graduated but not without first sharing their experiences with fears about the darker, manipulative, side of Harry. Therefore Harry's story was easily known by everyone. He had created respect or fear. 

It was also true for Liam, Niall, Zayn. Their stories were known. It was that all the other lads at Bar 3 fell into peer group and rankings based on what sent them to the ranch. And yet in the time that Louis had been part of the program it was very much a mystery why he was at Bar 3. What Was his offense? Where did he fit in?

Customarily boys grouped together naturally usually forming bonds by where they called "home". The gang's alphas or leaders was usually established by who committed the most ballsy offense. Thus it was that Harry and Liam were the leaders in the gang from the UK. In their case it was a somewhat shared title. 

These trends of social structure were part of Harry's thoughts as he could only think of Louis. So many questions. But then Harry realized the lads that he had just passed by were all engaged in gossiping about someone new. New to Bar 3 today. Past topics of interest where just that, outdated.

Harry entered the main lodge. Moving along the serving line placing some food on his tray and listening to the conversations of others around him it slowly dawned on Harry the common thread in the buzz. It was something about a new guy and the way he was handled. New guy? Was this the boy Kyla mentioned was coming? 

Sure enough when Harry turned with his full tray of food he saw that his usual table of five was missing one. Only Liam, Niall and Louis were seated there.

Off at another table located at a more private corner was Zayn sitting with his counselor, a man in his fifties that looked to be an outside guest and a young man typical of the age of program attendees who looked like some distant relation of Zayn's. At least he shared Zayn's complexion and astonishing good looks. He appeared far bigger in height and stature than Zayn, but unless told otherwise the two could be cousins. 

"Who's the new guy? And why is Zayn over there too?"

Harry suspected when he asked the other three that he already knew more than the others from what Kyla foreshadowed. But now the switch from gossip about Louis to the mystery-arrival made sense. The groups Harry passed enroute to the lodge, and with whom he stood in line while getting his dinner, were all a flutter over a new lad who came in with an unusually different approach than all those who had come to Bar 3 before.

"We're just talking about that." Louis said.

Liam added. "Your counselor was looking all over for you earlier today. And it was about that time, right after lunch, that this lad came. They didn't do it the normal way though. None of us knew he was here until right before dinner. "  


Niall reinforced the details leaning in so as to make their words more secret. "They didn't walk him in like usual. He actually was driven around to the back. And the guy over there in the suit and he have been meeting with the counselor ever since he got here. And Zayn too. The four of them. The guest, the new lad, the counselor and Zayn. That's never happened when someone new arrives before."

"Everyone is taking about him, in line, waking over here, everyone I passed it seems." Harry said. "Zayn didn't say anything to either of you though? Like he knew this was coming?"

Harry had been doing that lately, taking to the three mates like they were a unit; addressing Liam and Niall, Zayn too if he were present, as a body of one. After all, since they hooked up they were practically married in the sense of consciousness of each other's feelings and actions. 

"Well you know Zayn. He's pretty good at keeping secrets." Liam said. Then he looked at Niall including Niall to verify the next thing he was going to say which he directed at Louis but in answer to Harry. "Like for example, Louis, what was the first time that you and Zayn spoke after you came to Bar 3?" 

"Yeah, Louis tell us how that came about. Me and Li only know that you and Zee had some fateful friendship-inspiring moment but Zayn's never told us exactly what it was about." Niall prompted. 

"Oh that. Right. Um, it was me first day doing chores and I was feeding the horses over at C. No one told me about that stallion. I walked into his corral and he turned into this fire breathing beast. Right before I pissed myself as I was going to die Zayn pulled me out to safety." 

Niall and Liam were laughing over the story. They went on to confess to Harry and Louis that Zayn had actually said something about his and Louis' introduction but he was vague about the details. Zayn only said enough to them to create more questions. Basically he eluded to a habit of sparing Louis from "horrible fates". These rescues came out in some stories Zayn told in his post-sex haze as the three recouperated. Never did he give clear details being Mr Mysterio like he was. 

"Yeah, apparently Zayn has had a number of occasions of sparing Louis a horrible fate. Isn't that right Louis?" 

Louis was chewing his food so he shook his head "yes" and didn't expandon the incidents. As the three continued with their meal Harry thought about that. Zayn being so private was yet another reason why Zayn was perfect to help the new lad. Harry thought it was funny that Zayn was so much so a private person that he wasn't sharing with his two lovers what he was giving of himself as a chance to stay as a part of their lives at Bar 3. 

Those thoughts made Harry look long and hard at Louis. How could he tell Louis he might be leaving soon? In a few months maybe? Or how could he not? Louis who would have months maybe even a year before he'd be likely to cycle out. Top it off if the timelines held true with next chance to mature out of the program the list would very likely also include Liam and Niall. Soon Louis would be a loner. Harry felt a pang of pain. 

He looked way from his mates not wanting to see the happy way Louis chattered between bites with the other two. He just wanted to try to get his mind clear and back to what he needed to do. Maybe he could confide in oh-so-private Zayn. Zayn would understand. Harry needed a confidant.

Harry looked at the table where Zayn sat. The new guy looked bored. Disconnected. Aloof. This was common. Very common. The first reaction of most boys upon arrival was to act like they were too tough and this deal to stay out off jail, usually, was child's play. Beneath them. Or so they would all act even if they were secretly fearful. But then what made this program successful was how gently and firmly it broke the barriers. 

Harry thought more about that as he studied the people at Zayn's table. He compared and contrasted this new lad's mannerisms to how the five of them all were as individuals in their first few days here. They too were aloof, standoffish. It occurred to him that the one exception to this standard behavior was Louis. On day one,from the first minute he arrived, Louis acted totally and completely different. 

Looking to study Louis again and no longer reflecting on the new guy, Harry met Louis' eyes with his own. They were full of mirth as he was laughing with hand covering his mouth, a Louis thing, and his blues eyes were framed with crinkles. Such a happy pixie. All the gossip that had surrounded his reason for being at Bar 3 had never come off as realistic. It was funny that only now as Harry was preparing to leave that he questioned why Louis came.

Niall and Liam were lost in conversation still laughing at what Louis had said. Harry fell more deeply into his study of Louis. This drew Louis into Harry's gaze. Green eyes held blue. It may have been just hours since their last physical contact but nevertheless the fond was growing palpable between them. So focused were Harry and Louis on each other it was only when Niall and Liam kicked them under the table to brake the fond that they stopped staring in each other's eyes.

The thing that Liam and Niall wanted to point out was approaching nearly passing beside their table. The subject déjour, the new lad was walking to the door with Zayn, a counselor and the suit-clad guest. As they approached Zayn stopped talking with the new lad and looked at Liam and Niall. Unspoken intentions were clear from the tenderness in his eyes, he wanted his lovers to know this strange behavior wasn't a threat to their little perfect trifecta of love. 

Flanking Zayn the new lad was standing head-over-Zayn in height. From all measure he appeared to be very tall, maybe four inches more so than Harry. He was thin but muscular, defined, absolutely spectacular in the manliest of ways. As he was following Zayn as the four of them exited through tables he seemed disinterested in everything. Almost that was.

Maybe it was that Zayn looked down at their table as he passed to give a special smile to his mates, but whatever the reason, when the new arrival looked to where Zayn's attention fleeting diverted to, his disinterest aborted. Focused attention was trapped. One of them at the table created a look of breathlessness to pass over new kid's face. 

The new lad stopped in his tracks for a split second, stared, slack jawed at Louis. He had given Harry, Niall and Liam a fleeting passing over glance. A look of empty, unconcern as he scanned them quickly. But when his eyes gleamed over Louis he gawked and flushed. He quickly caught himself and tried to conceal his captivation. That had him looking around to see if anyone noticed he'd almost fallen over when struck by a treasure he spied and oddly he never noticed Harry was staring hard at him with a look of "get your fucking eyes off my treasure." 

Harry's treasure. The guest in the suit helped with the new lad's recovery from fonding by calling his name and taking the initiative to pick up conversation as the four were nearly exiting the dining lodge. 

Harry was able to assess this stranger when he was distracted and take further measure of him. Harry didn't like a bit of what he saw. This new guy, troubled and unknown, gorgeous and aloof, had revealed one thing he and Harry would share in common. A heart-stopping desire to have Louis Tomlinson. On his last step from lodge to deck the young man took another stolen look back, zeroed in on Louis, making certain perhaps Louis was real and not imagination. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The new guy is going to have a name I hope is fabricated enough to have no nationality. He's Muslim because it allows the plot to tie him to Zayn but it's important to be clear that there is no suggestion of him being any more troubled than any other lad except the combination of his faith and being gay makes it harder for him to fit in because of the world's bias against Muslims right now and non-hets. 
> 
> Might also note that I'm a fan of Harry who acts like he did when Aiden Grimshaw snogged Louis' neck and held him in his lap during the Xfactor.


	31. Purging demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry wants to push for answers about Louis. Hopes of discovery through his counselor fails as he confesses his emotions on his recent transformation; hopes of discovery from Louis fails as he succumbs to inflamed passion.

It was not unusual for a troubled youth arriving to Bar 3 to have an escort, someone of temporary guardianship to assist in transport. Harry did. Niall did. Zayn did too. What was rare would be for this person to stay at Bar 3 for twenty four hours or more. Nazir, the new arrival, had that. His guardian was there the entire day after he arrived which was another thing fueling the uniqueness of his situation. 

Knowing a little from Kyla about why there were these adjustments didn't lessen how much hate Harry felt about the new kid. 

As Harry sat with his two mates and watching Nazir, like all the other lads were doing too, Harry was filled with visable loathing. Again at breakfast on the day after his arrival Nazir was once more seated at a private table where he was surrounded by his guardian, his Bar 3 counselor and Zayn. 

Louis hadn't been in yet for breakfast and so maybe this was adding to Harry's ill temper. He sat playing with his food more than eating it, hoping to find Louis would come in soon bringing his usual sunshine and energy. By the time breakfast was ending it was clear Harry would be diaapointed; there was still no Louis.

What did come to Harry, Liam and Niall's table before they had to leave their breakfast tea and face the day ahead was a series false pretenses. Other groups of boys kept stopping by to have "casual chats" with the three of them. The trouble with these conversations about random things was that it was all clearly nothing more than an attempt to dig for news with a sophomoric curiously for gossip. Simply stated everyone wanted to know about Nazir. It was assumed Zayn's gang of brothers would know the scoop. 

Harry, who was increasingly annoyed by this far more than either Liam or Niall, realized that it was the lack of Louis that was bothering him more than gossip or Nazir. Sure, he hated this new guy because he had enough inside information to know that the lad was gay. Adding to that was the way that Nazir looked at Louis in passing the prior day so it was reasonable. Harry would have to hate him. 

One last group of exiting lads stopped by the table digging for news from Zayn's bros. It was four boys who all came out of Texas. They were known to be very gregarious and friendly when they weren't being typically arrogant, braggadocios as Texans were know to be. 

Louis would occasionally hang with them because after a relatively short amount of time at the ranch Louis' playfulness had garnered him a lot of popularity. Annoying as he could be, and loud, and opinionated, and well bitchy, everyone kind of loved Louis. The Texans were particularly fond of Louis. They found Louis amusing; his loudness was "cute" in their words. The boys came by with the usual questions, were sent away with their curiosity unrewarded, when Harry had a thought just before they passed out the front door. He called out to them in question. Maybe they had seen Louis. 

"Any chance that y'all have seen Louis this morning?" Harry asked in a voice he hoped didn't sound too hopeful or needy by his use of "y'all" in the question as Texans all do for the plural "you". 

One stopped and turned. Maybe because of the colloquial subtle joke Harry made, maybe just because it was his way. Austin. Fair, easy to like Austin Mahone paused to answer.

"Yeah, I saw him earlier this morning, really early. He was walking toward the arena with Michael and Ashton." 

That was all it took. Harry left the lodge in a near sprint with no comment just an instinct that Louis was potentially in trouble. 

But Harry didn't find Louis. Searching everywhere he found no sign. Also there was an absence of the two Australians at their work assignment. A fear crept into Harry. It dug so deep that Harry was forced by his emotions into a state of incapacitation. He stood in the middle of one of the many wide open passageways between buildings and barns, his search futile. Bent over from emotion his hands gripped his knees. An awfulness was stirring in him. It was not too different than when someone drank too much and vomiting is eminent. 

That was how Harry's counselor found him.

Harry was prone in mid-panic attack. Harry seemed almost drunkenly confused when his counselor, Derek, first walked up to him. The man in his forties saw immediately that Harry was under a bit of duress. 

"Harry, there you are. Are you okay?" Derek asked with concern as he put a hand on Harry's shoulder seeking closer inspection of Harry's face. "I looked for you yesterday because I didn't want to wait until our regular meeting time. I'd like to speak with you and seems my timing might be perfect, I mean, Harry, are you okay?" 

Harry pulled himself together. He stood straight and smiled his easy, most charming of assured smiles. He took one last quick glance around at the surroundings in case he might chance the slightest hint of where Louis, Michael and Ashton had gone. Then he let the anxiety go, for appearance sake. Harry turned and walked with Derek who signal him to follow. 

Harry noticed that while they walked to Derek's office there was an occasional stolen glance over at him. Derek was studying him as they made their way. It was a type of sneaked peak that told Harry he was being inspected. Measured. Assessed. The more Harry was aware of this the more he tried to level his emotions and build his appearance of ease and confidence that was typical of him. 

*** 

Over three hours of conversation with his counselor had Harry at times feelings of being thrilled and at others he was strictly mortified. 

"Harry are you aware that there has been a sudden and rapid change in you that we can all see for the first time?" Harry nodded and felt elation mixed with uncertainty to hear this evaluation. The conversation continued. 

..."There was a meeting between me and Liam's counselor, seems there is a new, healthier, relationship between you and Liam.".... This is good Harry thought, really good. Great actually. 

..."We're all impressed here, all us counsellors, of how many positive steps we're seeing in our boys from the UK. It's been a recent abrupt turn around. With you most of all, Harry. With the exception of Louis, who really only just arrived, it looks like we're soon sending some of you back home..." 

"Okay" Harry thinks but this news has Harry riveted in his seat. It was the "exception of Louis" part of the statement that gripped him. It created a fear. Could he and Louis be pulled apart so soon? These though preoccupied Harry's mind as Derek continued. 

"Zayn is an interesting situation. There is much ahead for him to decide. I hope as a friend of his, whatever his decision, you can be supportive."...okay so what was Harry's thought on this? 

In a word Harry's thought about the reference to Zayn put one feeling in Harry. Jealousy. Jealousy was the first emotion that filled Harry when the counselor asked him to be a friend to Zayn, supportive. Harry wanted to question. Why could Zayn get the privilege to make a choice? Why not him? 

Oh right, Harry knew why. This new youth was a "special case". In contrast Louis was socially adjusted. From the very beginning he came to Bar 3 unfettered by the challenge ahead of him. In fact Louis sort of acted like he found the ranch to be Candy Land. Harry had never asked but as he thought about what made the new boy special, and by contrast, what made Louis so unique, he knew the latter was because Louis was this happy pixie from day one. Like he wasn't ever meant to be there at Bar 3. Dropped from someplace and protected by the pixie dust it seemed that there was some thing flawless and untarnished about Louis compared to others. 

Harry had indeed been meaning to ask Louis more about himself. There were just so many things he meant to ask. What brought Louis there? Who all had Louis had sex with at the ranch before he and Louis fell into this exclusive thing they had going? Now Harry wondered even more about the things he didn't know. Things about Louis that their time together emptied from his brain because of what they did. Their sex was so enveloping that Harry a hard time thinking about anything else when the were together. When he could think it was at the odd times they weren't together. So. 

Thrilled and mortified. All the waves of emotions and new ideas and questions had Harry spinning between these two opposite emotions. 

The clock ticked, minutes passed, Derek and Harry talked on. Harry forgot to ask about the weekend cattle drive. He could really only talk about his progress toward leaving because once the counselor wanted Harry to understand that actions like avoiding stalking Liam, trading that for engaging Liam as a friend, were the significant behavioral changes that the decisions were based on. Harry got absorbed in that. 

More time passed as Derek kept Harry focused on his feelings. Instead of questions Harry found he became engaged in needing to make confessions. Something about the pull of home, realizing it was in his grasp, had him openly admitting to so much of himself. Harry began to give up some of his pain. He expressed that he realized he had for so long needed to target the unavailable, as Liam represented, to dull the hurt he felt. For the first time in his long tenure at Bar 3 Harry shared and purged. To Derek Harry was finally able to open up about the way he had became so bitter and so predatory. Finally Harry admitted that he realized now that his path had made him feel more empty, more isolated and a significant amount of self loathing. 

Spurred by the mention of home Harry let his counselor in. 

Their hours of talk went through much of such depth that Harry was actually forgetting, for a short while, anything about Louis as a catalyst for this. For the first time Harry was confiding about his first love. The former teacher. The keeper of trust who betrayed him and broke him. When Harry finally left the hours of counseling his body felt drained and emotionally exhausted. 

"Purging ones demons is painful." Derek said. 

Harry had held his inside so long that they took much to exorcise, he'd added. Derek left Harry with homework to do. It was the one of only two times Derek mentioned Zayn. He used Zayn as an illustrative reference suggesting to Harry that he find some private time and a quiet place to talk with Zayn, get Zayn's ideas on how to begin thinking about the next step. Derek would help, he said, but Harry had to find his convictions. 

What future goals Harry wanted to design for himself, Derek explained, "...is an important part of the process of moving on Harry. Zayn has been considering those types of questions for some time now. He has made what we hope are brilliant choices for him given his interests, expertise. You should see if he can share some of how he worked through that. Maybe it would help you get started in thinking of what works for you." 

Harry was finally too emotionally drained to jump into the question that Zayn's name opened the door to. Besides Harry knew that the counsellors didn't share personal information very much except when it was illustrative. As was so often Harry's manner of speaking his voice came out with a slowness and a deep, richness of tone as he replied, "I will do that, thanks. Actually might look for him now since it's usual free time right before dinner. Don't remember seeing his name on the chore board today. Do you have any idea where he might be?" 

Derek was locking his office door behind them as they exited when Harry asked of Zayn's whereabouts so he didn't see the way Harry's body responded when he made his reply. 

"Not too sure exactly. You know, there's a new boy here, Nazir. Zayn was asked to escort him around a bit, help him with learning the routine. First day stuff, you know, learn the rules, the layout, all that. To think of it though, usually everyone has their tour buddy introduce them to other potential friends. If I was looking for where Zayn is, I'd start with where is Louis supposed to be. Zayn and Louis are pretty tight friends. I think I heard Nazir ask to meet some of Zayn's friends. Zayn and Louis seem to be...um, um more bros, partners in crime, less bromance than Niall and Liam. If I were you I'd look for Louis. Maybe Zayn is introducing those two for the social hour before supper. Just a guess." 

Harry could have been hit with an arrow it cut so sharp and unseen. He left his counselor and sprinted over towards the lesson barn where Kyla worked with the girls. Every afternoon Louis was there. 

Harry ran around the outside of the large indoor arena where he came to a halt suddenly. The lesson had surely been over for more than and hour. Parent's cars were lined up in the nearby car park waiting for their detained kids. Some were clearly making their parents wait to the point of madening frustration but who could blame the girls? 

The day had been one of those end of summer days that was always so cherished in places with real winter like the mountains of the western US. In the arid climate, a scorching hot day as autumn approached was a gift. This day had been one of those. Hot, painfully so. It must have been gruelingly uncomfortable if one was riding a horse and wearing long pants, boots and a helmet. So on this potentially last hot day of summer Kyla gave the girls a green light to make the most of it. The lesson ended early so the sweaty horses could all get baths in the hot sun outside the barn. It was always fun when this happened because play usually broke out when buckets of soap and hoses where in the hand of girls who hadn't discovered the importance of appearances yet. 

Kyla embraced anything that made horses fun for her girls. The parents knew it too. Many were out of their cars watching and laughing at the fun the children were having. Some parents were waiting with less appreciation than others. Too many of those had no cell reception and their humor and tolerance waned in the heat. Harry saw Kyla walking away from one such red-in-the-face dad whose Jaguar and his expensive suit suggested he had enough money that he was probably just shouting at Kyla for letting his daughter make him late or forcing him to have to let his child get into his plush leather seats soaking wet. But that drama was not what Harry was not interesting enough to hold Harry's interest. 

Harry scanned the sea of mayhem. Lesson horses were all stripped of their tack, wet, some with suds covering them like thick foam. The mob of girls were in various degrees of damp to fully soaked too. Buckets were brimming with bubbles and scattered everywhere. Water hoses too were stretched across the ground laying every which way. The chaotic placement of buckets and hoses made it a wonder how the horses were not frighten of the "imaginary snake" that such things like ordinary water hoses become in the brain of a horse, but there were the horses amidst a passel of laughing girls, not at all frightened taking this in stride. 

In the middle of all this chaos clearly having been playing sponge tag with this group of girls was Louis. It was obvious to any casual observer that over the course of numerous lessons with these girls Louis had become something like a beloved mascot to them. Harry saw that when he taught Kyla's lesson one day. And now it was clear he had been their number one target forgetting maybe too much that they were supposed to wash their horses, not other people. 

So there was Louis. Wet Louis. Wet, wet, wet Louis whose clothes where clinging to his body. That Louis. Another thing that was quite evident was that the sponge tag was merely on brief "hold" because Louis' attention was temporarily diverted. 

The cause of his distraction? Zayn and Nazir were standing in the middle of this mayhem talking with Louis. They must have just beaten Harry to the scene. Harry could see that Louis was splitting his concentration between Zayn and friend and a pair of girls. Two girls were clearly pulling their horses around to position the horses for defense as they planned an attack. Louis' destraction from the game was their chance to sneak in on him. This scene riveted Harry in place as ignored the girls and their strange staging of their horses and he focused instead on the body language of the three lads. 

There was Zayn. Simply being Zayn. The cool factor of his demeanor was as it always was. Adding to it, and against the rules and in clear view, Zayn was just passing the time as they talked with a cigarette he smoked. Then there was Louis. 

On one hand Louis was cute as cute could be looking much like a child as he had brushed his wet hair out of his way leaving it in a silly mess making him look all the more the pixie. Then there was the other side of Louis. The way his body glistened and the wetness revealed what was covered in every detail, even something as tiny as his little nips. His shirt which sagged greatly at the neckline from its water-logged state was also shear enough that the fabric added to the seductiveness. 

And then there was the way he stood talking with Zayn and Nazir. It was Louis' tendency to get wiggly and bashful around some men. When he did that it accentuated his curvy, pretty, and sometimes flamboyantness gave off this quality that said "I'd like it now if you would pick me up and hold me against a wall as you pound into me with your monster cock". Well, at least that was how Harry read the posture he saw Louis as having been confronted by introductions to this new guy. From Harry's perspective Nazir resembled the best impression of some pharaoh Harry had ever seen. To make matters worse Louis had look way up to meet Nazir's eyes accentuating his diminutiveness. And Harry knew just how entrancing that was when Louis' sparkly, smile-eyes met one's own from a gaze that looked up through full, dark lashes. 

Responding to this wet Louis seemed to bring Nazir's posture into what would be best described as leaning. The "lean" told Harry all he needed to know. It was hunger-leaning. This new guy, the one Kyla said was gay, wasn't just any gay by Harry's view of things. He struck the cord of being dom. At this very moment he was looking like he would eat Louis. The worst of it for Harry was that Nazir was so strikingly gorgeous and viril that Harry had a fainting feeling Louis would give in to him. After all, even this new guy's hair was like silken onyx, maybe even if he allowed it to grow a little more, one could detect a few curls. Louis had a thing for silken curls... 

"Harry?" 

Harry turned and there stood Kyla who had approached when he was lost in his study of the three lads. Harry's face must have said it all. It must have revealed he'd been through hours of guttingly emotional counseling only to discover his lover looking very much engaged with a very attractive and interested, or interesting, Harry feared, interloper. 

"Oh Harry," Kyla said softly as she looked past Harry and saw what had made Harry rooted there in a state of near anaphylaxis. "Harry, no," she added more softly As she took Harry's arm and brung him to turn away. She put a hand on him and whispered, "it's okay sweetie." Before he could think of a reply Kyla looked past Harry again. She put two fingers in her mouth and did one of those earpiercing whistles some people can do. 

Everyone heard it. The girls were trained to stop everything if she did that whistle. Often it meant that someone was in trouble. Everyone stopped and turned to her. With this Kyla had the full attention of Zayn, Nazir and Louis. To the latter she gave a single finger gesture that said "You, Louis, you come here!" 

Louis stopped what he was doing obdiently and walked over to where Kyla and Harry stood. Arriving at Harry's side it was worse than Harry imagined; the way Louis looked. His slicked skin warm and inviting seemingly luminescent. His face was burnished with sun. He looked questioningly at Kyla and smiled brightly at Harry. His smile broke off all of Harry's rigidity. Surely that was a smile that was only for him because their eyes met and Harry could see the way Louis sense the volition emotions that were turning in Harry's head. 

Harry was also aware that Zayn and Nazir were watching as Louis left them, but he couldn't care because Louis was oblious to them. He was staring at Harry. And smiling. Warmly. 

"You two need to get a room!" Kyla said in a whisper, but the tone of her words were teasing. She made the same roll of her eyes like she did when their ride back from Will's became uncomfortably sexually charged between the two of them. 

That was how Harry and Louis ended up ending the tack room of the big arena alone with Louis clinging on Harry. After Kyla said they need to get a room she broke up the horse bath party and made the girls get all the horses rinsed quickly and turned out. She assigned Louis to collect up buckets and hoses, which naturally she suggested Harry help with, because the waiting parents needed to get their daughters and go. Somewhere in that Zayn and Nazir just wandered off. When Harry and Louis had all the washing pails and hoses stowed it was very easy to just fall into each other and into the tack room. 

*** 

Harry had meant to get answers from Louis while they cleaned up. From the moment Kyla tuned to them lose to do the chores she began expiditing gets girls gone. Soon Harry and Louis were alone and every attempt to talk with Louis was diverted. Serious questions were met with no answers, only sexually charged, flirtatious quips. 

Harry yelped turned around and hoisted Louis up carrying him There was a roughness to it and Louis laughed. 

"Less words, more tongue licking me open." Louis demanded like a tyrannical child. 

"Ooh, I'll give you something alright, not what you think you should get." 

Harry's words became muzzled by Louis' mouth meeting his. They hit the door of the tack room locked together in their passion and sloppy in their battle for dominance. 

As Harry carried Louis he fought the urge to fall into giving into Louis' desire. Hands on that ass he craved the sensation of lying Louis down, spreading Louis' cheeks, anticipating using his tongue to lick Louis' hole, opening Louis slowly. 

Ignoring that Louis' was mumbling through their kisses about "someone with green eyes and a perfect mouth" Harry kept to his refusal. He made threats. 

"Keep up toying with me Louis, m'gonna make you writhe with pleasure, not let you come, do more to you Louis, and still not let you come." 

Louis mumbled an uninterpretable slur of words. It was impossible to read from the mumbling exactly what was said. Something like he was desperate for Harry, "if he could just get to the fucking..." 

Holding Louis for a few steps into the room Harry made sure to close the door before dropping Louis unceremoniously in place which he knew well from many times before having been the one who was bottoming in this room. It wasn't hard to get Louis from his clothes because Louis' shirt was so loose from the water. Harry even pulled off the wet jeans with out challenge. Urgency made Harry none to gentle in flipping the laughing Louis to face down, a hand on the center of Louis' spine, he bag an pressing Louis to stay there as he then swatted Louis' arse. It was a retaliation, a payback for the still stinging bite Louis had given him minutes before. 

This time Louis yelped, but then he laughed wigged his bum and said "Do that more, oh, more please!" 

Harry sat back on his heels and looked at Louis. 

"Why are you like this? Why are you so...this? What made you come here? You've never told me anything like that." Harry decided to take all his clothes off despite a passing thought to make this quicker by only exposing the bare necessities. "Stay there." he said when Louis became more wiggling with impatience. 

Pressing Louis to stay, Harry kept Louis' legs spread by using of his own legs parting them wide while he took off his shirt. Pushing harder on the center of Louis' back to remind him, hHarry then took off his jeans. Pleasantly enough he found he had a small tube of lube in them which fell out. Harry was quick to squirt some onto the full bottom of his filth-talking lover. It was like the seductive talk was Louis' way of ignoring Harry's question and taunting him instead. 

With a quick effort to take lube which flowed everywhere out of the sloppy haste of Harry's effort, Harry got a wet finger into Louis as folded over Louis speaking to him with lips breathily whispering a growl into one ear. 

"You need to keep your arse still for me baby, you know I need to open you up with more. Just not going to give you the pleasure of my tongue like you want. This sweet hole of yours is so tight always for me. Your burning to feel me inside you, let me eat you out, fill your pussy with my cum, fuck you again with my cock. You would love that." 

Harry stands up straighter, scarcely has one finger easily inserting through the ring of muscles before Louis was frustrated and sassing him more. Clearly Louis intended to force this along. Determined not to give in Harry spanked Louis hard again. Louis laughed and Harry's self-control caved. He thrusted a second finger into Louis to shut him up with a commencement of forceful scissoring 

Louis struggled to rock his hips to create a tilt hoping to chance make a brush of Harry's long fingers over his prostrate. Harry pushed Louis down more and held him there with his torso over Louis back again. Once more his mouth spoke words over Louis ear. 

"So easy to find that prostrate Louis. Coax you into wanting more friction. If you give up what I want I'll punish you with each stroke of my cock to unravel you. Slowly milk your prostrate dry. You're so desperate for your own fulfillment. Not going to have you come until you do my bidding. 

Louis made a sound that was something like "naaurrg!" before he panted and breathlessly went into, "na, na, nau, not going to tay, tay, tell you any secrets."

In pent up flash of sexual frustration Harry wanted this gorgeous boy so bad. It had been like this with them. Louis making Harry crazy. Louis was stronger, more than he was Harry realized. All of this was just one big game. Ever since Louis said Harry could use him, hurt him, he only wanted to be "in there" Harry struggled to have control over Louis. It wasnt like it had been for Harry with Liam. Or Nick. Harry had no control here. 

The pull of want to be inside Louis was a stronger force than Harry's will to fight for answers to mysteries. He was giving into his own need to feel the intoxicating pleasure as he enjoyed Louis' beautiful, responsive body. He loved everything about the way Louis felt, how he tasted, his scent. He loved it all. Louis had power to daze him into submission. 

Snap. Just like that Harry released the pressure on Louis' back. He grasped Louis' hair hard, pulling it. Making Louis bend and hips raise. Without any hesitation Harry lined himself up and trust himself in deep and hard. He knew he'd given Louis little prep, but still he slammed into a slightly under-prepared hole. Louis dropped his sassiness making a slightly distressed yelp. Before Harry could separate guilt from the pleasing sensation his body got from taking Louis so abruptly Louis was back to mumbling words that revealed that he was enjoying this and anything but traumatized. 

Harry felt dazed. The wrenchingly emotional counseling session left his will collapsed. He gave into his pleasure. Louis didn't push Harry off this pleasure chasing taking of his body. He encouraged Harry's force with the moans he let out. Finding exhaustion was mixing into his efforts Harry fell onto Louis so his body was a plank over Louis' back. Pressed together like this Harry pushed himself deep and fast. 

Self-absorbed Harry was aware that Louis was peaking when he felt Louis arch his back while trying to muffle himself into the floor beneath them. 

Harry decided that he could make good on one bit of his futile attempt to dominate this bottom as he'd described he would when this all started. Having failed in all his other threats he did at least stop buried deep allowing himself to shoot his load while fully impaling Louis. 

He thought as he did, at least what his brain meant to say was to repeat "fill your pussy with my cum, fuck you again with my cock" which was one part of his mostly failed threat. But when Louis replied to Harry, the words of response made no sense. "I love you too Harry."


	32. "I love you" and the creepy obsession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This work is written for Lollypoopz, but this chapter is dedicated to Sigmaraz. Thanks for the faith!

At dinner Harry and Louis were tucked close together. It was just the four of them; Harry, Louis, Liam and Niall at their table. Zayn was once again seated with Nazir. Harry's brain still felt muddled from hours emotional purging followed by sexual bliss with Louis. This allowed him to ignore the desire to glare at the new lad. Besides, Louis made constant contact with Harry and Harry felt at peace. 

Louis had his leg plastered to Harry's under their table. This helped with Harry's disposition given that Nazir was sitting facing them. Harry noticed he kept stealing glances at Louis. Those around him talked to him but Nazir only looked at his food or at Louis. If Harry looked back in Nazir's direction Louis bumped a leg against Harry's as if to say, "eyes on me and me only".

Niall and Liam took notice of the fondness exchanged between Harry and Louis. They delighted in taking turns at making teasing remarks, suggestions and taunts to Harry and Louis that had underlying sexual references. This hinted that the two of them might have heard Harry and Louis having sex. This was all said in good humor and both Harry and Louis were too post-sex-fonding over each other to care. 

It was right after Liam said one particularly explicit thing, words Liam would wish he could take back, when he was surprised by a throat clearing noise from beside their table. "Actually yes Harry, we were right outside the tack room earlier." Liam was saying, "We were looking to take an edge off this no-Zayn spell and what do you know? We found you lads were already banging away in there. Not that anyone would have to hear you like we did to know what you two were doing right before dinner. Your face when you walked into the lodge Harry, and Louis' walk, says loud and clear "hey everyone we were just fucking'".

Looking at the four lads with the word "fucking" in his ears fresh off Liam's lips was none other than Liam's counselor. He had come to standing beside them unnoticed. He looked a little shocked having just heard Liam. A blush was evident. When the four lads realized he was standing there he dropped his eyes to the table. Awkwardness had him off guard. Embarrassed he spoke quickly after an initial sputter.

"Um Liam, I, we, um we had a request from out neighbor, Will. He is needing some help this weekend to collect some cows. seems he requested you, and," the man blushed again while talking to them and not looking at them. "Friday night is the big fall season kickoff bonfire. You and your friends here, Harry and Niall need to plan to get to bed early, earlier than the other boys, to be sure you're rested. You'll be leaving on horseback at sunrise to go over to his ranch."

The man turned like he had to run, clearly he'd heard Liam's entire remark and wanted to make a hasty retreat. 

Harry called out. "Excuse me sir, but did you just say Liam, Niall and me? Are you certain just us three?"

Uncomfortable for certain, the counselor could barely look Harry in the eyes. He paused his steps only as much as necessary. 

"Your couselors will discuss this with each of you, but yes. Although I think Zayn is going too. Yes, actually I'm certain, Zayn too." That said he turned and left hastily. 

Harry looked at Louis. Louis looked at Harry. The confusion was visible. Niall and Liam leaned in and asked. "What is it Harry?" 

Harry could not answer. This was not how it was supposed to go. Harry jumped to his feet. "I gotta go," he said looking very nearly panicked. 

Surprised by the sudden change Louis slipped his hand into Harry's and asked "Harry? What, why, what are you doing?" 

Harry shook his hand free from Louis' with an abruptness that was borderline insulting. He shook his head "no" and despite Liam and Niall joining in a questioning of why Harry was suddenly leaving like that. Harry didn't answer. He just sprinted out of the busy dining hall leaving his three mates to wonder. 

*** 

The next morning Harry was in a search for one of two people who he failed find the night prior when he bolted out of the dining lodge so abruptly. He left to clarify that Louis was included in the group going with Will. He hoped to find and answer from one of two people he could trust. 

Kyla didn't live on the ranch so Harry was not surprised he couldn't find her. It was disappointing that he also couldn't find Derek. Apparently when he and Derek finished their marathon of a counseling session Derek had decided to drive into town and have a beer. Perhaps for him too, compassionate for his lads, he had needed to get away and process being a part of Harry's long repressed deep emotions. 

At breakfast Harry blew off his lads, even to the extent that he turned away when his attempt to grab a muffin enroute run to look for Derek, was delayed by Louis. Louis, who came up beside Harry still searching for the answer to what made Harry take flight the night before. He his body intimately close to Harry's. Thus he blended with Harry in a way that was a uniquely Louis-thing. Something about his curves maybe, but Louis had a way of standing next to someone and he could appear to seam his body into theirs. At least with Harry he did that with increasing frequency. 

"Harry, what are you doing? Come sit with us." 

Harry looked at Louis. His fucking flawless skin and pert nose. His blue eyes that penetrated Harry's mossy green ones with a searching need. His little smile that was balanced by his questioning lift to his eyebrows. It gutted Harry to see that. And Louis' hand moved up like he was going to touch Harry's face in what Harry was sure would be intimate. 

Harry stepped back putting distance between them and said "No. Got something to do." 

His turn to leave was as much because he was in a hurry to catch Derek before Derek met with one of his other boys in the program which was on his first appointment of the day, and Harry could not wait...but it was also because he saw the crestfallen look the descended over Louis. That look Harry couldn't take. Not now. Not after yesterday when he thought he said the crudest thing he could after great sex. After all he referenced Louis' body in girl body terms with the vile use of the word "pussy". In response Louis replied like he had said "I love you" and responded "I love you too" back. This could only mean that Louis was. 

Harry shuddered. He spoke over his shoulder making haste to exit, "I just got something I have to do." 

A few long strides and Harry's gazelle-like form was out the door in search of Derek. He wasn't sure who from Bar 3was talking with Will and how it was being decided which lads would go help find the cows but Harry knew the only reason for the entire thing was for he and Louis to go to Will and Francie's special place. Nothing else mattered. Harry would explain this himself to Louis once he figured out what the mistake was. And how to fix it. 

*** 

Abandoned, Louis sat back down with Liam and Niall. "What was that about?" Niall asked. 

"I don't know." Louis said. "He's acting very strange." 

"No kidding, like we can't see that. But the look on your face says you know why Louis. You want to tell us? Did something happen between you two yesterday? I mean, other than the...sex." Liam questioned. 

"Well there was this one thing." 

The way Louis was studying his tea and not looking at them made Liam and Niall lean in because Louis' body language had all the hallmarks of big revelation of shocking secrets about to be told. Louis rocked back and forth in his seat a few times, stared harder into his tea and nodded his head before he looked up at them to reply. 

"Ah, we, we kind of...well he said. Then I said. So it was something. What happened. It was something." 

"What?" Liam said. He and Niall both leaned in even closer and their voices lowered. "I don't follow. What was something? He said? What did he say? Was this when you were banging, because Harry talks some shit when he's having his fun. He's only honest after he's gotten the edge off with and an orgasm or two. Otherwise he's all conquest and command..." 

Liam trailed off because he realized he was talking about things he knew only because he and Harry had been doing it, some sort of relationship, not really that Liam was on board, but it was true that they had sex. A lot of it. And while Niall knew this, it was never something that Liam had ever acknowledged as in his past even though he Niall and Zayn were a happy unit. It was just subject non grata Niall assumed. But here was Liam talking casually about how Harry is as a sex partner like it was discussing what clothes he liked to wear. 

"What?" Liam said directing his question at Niall's puzzled look, "why are you looking at me so surprised Niall? You don't think I can pretend like I don't know Harry's potential do you? He is what he is. Harry's only honest about himself if he feels good. By having sex. It's how I finally saw the true Harry. While he was usually being a complete dick, literally and figuratively, with me most of the time, I also saw that he wanted to be something better than he was. After. After I fucked him he would be softer, kinder. Instead of jacking me up and playing me sometimes we'd go at it again you know, just for the high. And he could be sweet. Believe it of not." 

Niall was still staring at Liam with a stunned look. This assured Liam was truly transformed. He had no problem analyzing his former offender with a compassionate understanding and a willingness to let the past go. It was that which had Niall staring with a mix of shock and amazement for Liam's openness. Niall felt the admiration for Liam swelling because this overcoming homophobia, accepting himself as gay had come so much father than even Niall could have guessed. Niall was flattered that Liam shared this and without it having to include Zayn. It made Niall's need to be valued a fulfilled one. 

Niall glanced at Louis and shrugged about Liam's exposé. "What can he say? Can you believe it Louis? Mr-I'm-A-Loner like he's some sort of cowboy from the 1800's is all modern man and at peace about life now. Open. Compassionate. I have a new Liam." 

Louis still looked interested in his tea but there remained the question of "the something". And now it was Niall and Liam who wanted to bring out from Louis what he wasn't saying. Niall looked at Liam as he asked Louis. Liam looked back at him and nodded. Both of them felt that this entire evolution which happened among all four of them was because of Louis. He came to Bar 3 and everything changed. For the better. 

"Louis we're still confused. He said, you said? What did each of you say?" 

"I love you." 

Louis said the words and he sat up from a slump he had drifted into. Looking at them each in turn he reiterated. "We were just coming down from you know and Harry said 'I love you'. It was weird because I swear he was thinking something else, but he said it and I responded 'I love you too' and that was it. We spooned for a while, Harry was the little spoon, cleaned up came here for dinner." 

Glances exchanged between Niall and Liam. Louis shuffled nervously in his seat. All of them sat there for a minute quietly reflecting. Then Louis broke the silence. 

"You don't think he has regret. I-love-you regret, do you?" 

Answers deflated with barely a syllable uttered because it was at that moment that Zayn and Nazir walked up to the three of them. In the breakfast hall the room fell silent. Curious groups of boys all put their conversations on hold and watched. Finally the new kid was being brought out. Zayn was taking him over to his bros. 

"Liam, Niall, I want you to meet Nazir. He's from France. Nazir this is Liam, he's a Brit. Niall here is Irish, and Louis, well you met him yesterday. 

Zayn made the introductions and his eyes met his those of his two lover's in turn as he identified them to Nazir. He conveyed to them a feeling of warmth and endearment that both lads greatly appreciated. There had been too much separation for their liking since Nazir arrived. Both Liam and Niall took Nazir's hand in turn as well with the introduction. While they each made eye contact with Nazir as such is the norm they could see he was struggling to hold the exchange because his desire to look at Louis was palpable. As soon as the manner of introduction allowed he turned to Louis. The way he looked at Louis was easy to read. 

"Louis" Nazir said in a thick French accent. He had not repeated either Liam or Niall's name, only nodded his head at each of them. But when he said "Louis" it was lyrical, strung out. Relished. There was no need to say it but somehow it seemed he had to. Louis was someone special from the way he spoke the name. 

Nazir said the name again and although he didn't need to shake Louis' hand he did take it which caught Louis by surprise. Nazir pulled Louis up standing. This brought all of them at the table to standing. To anyone watching from afar, as all the people in the room were, Liam and Niall's actions made Nazir's move less noticeable. To this small group the grasp for Louis was very strong with a feeling of taking. 

Liam flushed with a protectiveness. Louis was not his, but this overt fascination of Nazir's with Louis bothered him. Louis had just finished confiding in his and Harry's love. 

Liam started to reach over the table and make contact, intending to take Nazir's arm to break the trance but Zayn was quick to cut Liam's reach off and seized Nazir by the arm instead. Nazir was still staring at Louis who was to the point of pulling away from his own sense of the awkwardness. In that instant Liam realized Nazir was someone Zayn was particularly instructed to safeguard or direct in some way. Niall saw the surprise of how Zayn's interception affected Liam and he stepped in tight to Liam and put his arm around his mate. Protective Liam; it was both sweet and sexy as fuck, Niall thought. 

Niall was shaking his head "no" like to assure Liam that Zayn's actions were to prevent something that might have happened. With more unspoken communication by use of directed looks at the three, Nazir, Louis and Zayn it was said to Liam by Niall, "somethings here are not what we want to get into." Niall knew the fascination with Louis was for Zayn to work out. 

Zayn's hands on Nazir, having prevented Liam from touching him, Zayn pulled the new guy gently away from his obsession. 

"Okay so I'm taking Nazir over to do some things with me today. We got the job of making some bases and stands for the art pieces that were made by the kids during the Festival of the Horse. Some kids did 3D pieces and we need somethings to hold them upright for an art show." 

This report from Zayn was diluting the weirdness that had put everyone on edge just seconds before. All of them looked less charged. Nazir still couldn't stop looking at Louis. Louis had plopped back down to sip some tea and it made for more unspoken communicae between Niall and Liam. Louis did this thing when he drank tea; it was just killer sweet and feminine. The affect on Nazir was undeniable. Gentle pulling away of the obsessed by Zayn became more firm. 

Zayn pushed on ignoring all the side glances from everyone in the room. He called out to his three bros as he moved Nazir toward the door "Seems we could use some help, if one of you..." 

Zayn was cut off by Nazir who grinning back over his shoulder at Louis with what was now a ridiculously overt grin of infatuation. Nazir blurted out "I want Louis..." 

Without missing a beat Zayn jumped back into what he was saying, cutting off Nazir and continuing with his intended remark. The way he interrupted Nazir was as funny as it could be and caught Niall and Liam quite unexpected because they thought maybe the one thing Zayn wasn't picking up on was how creepy Nazir was fonding over Louis. To the contrary Zayn clarified his understanding as he said in continuation, "Yes, Nazir, yes, I think we all can see you 'want Louis' that's abundantly clear, but what I'm saying is any of you get free later today come help us out." 

Nazir was still staring at Louis as Zayn finished the invite. Before Nazir could stop gawking Zayn physically pushed Nazir to turn away and head for the door. Liam and Niall stood there watching as their Zayn, smaller and usually so smooth boyfriend, was pretty much strong-arming the large, masculine Nazir towards the door with ease. Now Niall felt that he had not one but two lovers he had a huge new respect for. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sticking to respect for cultures even if they are not my own. it was had planned for Nazir to be French national. Love We are all one world. We need to make it a safer place for tomorrow. Hatred is a creation of the human brain, not a specific culture, faith, race or gender. Love to France.


	33. The big scheme of things

It was way too early in the morning for Harry. Abandoning Louis at breakfast was tremendously hard. If only Harry didn't still need answers. That need forced him to go see if he could find someone who could clarify what the counselor said to Liam about the cattle drive. 

Harry found that Derek was already in his office counseling another boy assigned to him. Harry would have to wait. He sat outside Derek's office, watched the clock and thought about Louis...  


Louis who was first just a pen enchanting new face. The combination of pretty with a sweet arse was obvious cause of Harry's curiosity. Upon looking for Louis in the meadow, curiosity got the better of Harry. 

He recalled finding Louis sleeping in the grass like a sprite or forest child. Louis was so playful, chimerical. He responded to everything in his surroundings; the butterfly, the bees, the small horse like this was a playground. Even the way he flirted with Harry on the hike back was carefree. Unlike Harry, Louis' choice of who he found attractive seemed to come from someplace unconnected to power, or need to control. 

Louis was from that moment an enigma to Harry. 

Harry's biggest downfall was when they were thrown together by the storm, the night the four of them went out in search of Naill. Was it that Louis was vulnerable then? Harry couldn't be sure. One thing for certain was that when Harry carried Louis into the protection of Will's cabin it was the start of something penetrating his heart. A feeling of caring replaced a feeling of hunger for doing the hurting. 

When Derek's meeting ended Harry had a nearly bleeding lower lip from the subconscious habit of chewing on it. He did a lot, particularly when he was daydreaming about Louis. In fact he was so deep in one such dream when he heard Derek say his name that he missed it causing Derek repeat louder. 

"Harry? Are you okay?"

Harry looked up. There was Derek looking at him with a slight concern similar to the day before when Harry was discovered by mid-anxiety attack in his failed search for Louis.

Maybe it was the second consecutive day of being discovered so vulnerable. Maybe it was positive steps Derek knew Harry had been making but it was very easy for Harry to blurt out what he needed; would Louis be going to help search for cattle along with Harry and the others?

Derek could give no answer. He could only confirm that he knew Will wanted help. Each boy's counselor and mentors had the responsibility to decide to green light who could go. Just as it had been Liam's conselor's right, Derek could only say if he'd let Harry go. 

"...in fact Harry I think that this request by Will specifically asking you to help him shows exactly what I've said about you, the changes in you. Everyone can see it. Would you be asked to do this two months ago? No. A month ago? Not likely."

"But I don't know what to say about the cattle drive and Louis. We all know you were quite heroic, very smartly capable in a bad, bad situation on that night of the big storm. But Louis? When I heard what happened, the fall he took, it just seems kind of dangerous to have Louis go out in the mountains again. Maybe he's not allowed to go for any more adventures until he's been here for much longer. Isn't he working on lessons still?"

Derek looked like he was pondering that. He had a notable reflective pause before he shrugged and perked up with an idea. 

"Oh, hey, come to think of it. I saw the schedule updates earlier," Derek went to his computer and opened up the electronic version of the daily chore board. "I had a notice about you for today. Seems that there's a request to have you to switch from the original assignment you had. You are needed to help with something with Kyla's area. She might know what's going on with that request from Will. Louis' abilities on horseback would be assessed by her before any decisions were made. Ask her." 

***

Harry left Derek's office with time to go searching for Louis. He didn't find Louis where he was supposed to be. Typical Louis. This Harry was learning. After a futile search he he made his way to lunch early. When he entered the dining hall he crossed paths with Zayn who was leaving from what appeared to be a morning long meeting over coffee and tea with his counselor and the guest who brought Nazir. From appearances the man seemed to be finally prepared leave Bar 3. Unfortunately it looked like he wasn't taking his adolescent charge with him. Nazir was there to stay. 

This unwelcomed boy was in tow trailing behind Zayn. Zayn stopped briefly to introduce Harry and Nazir. In the course of their introduction it came up that Louis had just left. Harry missed him by a minute or two. 

Meeting the new lad made Harry extremely grateful that he would see Louis right after lunch when he went to help Kyla with the group lesson. Harry was very upbeat because perhaps the switch in chores might give him answers about the cattle drive like Derek suggested. Besides it would give him another chance to watch Louis riding. Harry smiled about an image of Louis riding him instead of a horse and the idea that maybe they could sneak off to have another later afternoon dicking session like they did the day before. Anticipation was so intense that Harry felt his dick fattening in his jeans. He chose to grab a sandwich to take outside to a quiet spot alone to emerge himself in his fantasies. 

Harry enjoyed his sandwich of lox and cream cheese, reflected and then headed to the big indoor arena with a happiness to his steps. His time alone under a large tree, feeling the summer breeze of warm air, enjoying a crystal blue sky overhead, was time enough for Harry to conjured up a few ways he'd flirt with Louis throughout the lesson. He was pleased with his ideas because in the limited time he'd been "in something" with Louis there was a trend he'd noticed. He wanted to flip it. 

Louis. Soft, smiley, playful Louis was also demanding, sassy, and dominating Louis. Harry wanted to work on being the one who made Louis fall apart. The day before he had caved to Louis. Harry wanted now to become the person he could be; a lover with focus. A purpose beyond himself.

Walking into the barn housing the indoor arena Harry was greeted by some of the girls who were in the lesson. They were bringing their horses into the isle way and putting them in cross ties to begin grooming and tacking. He spent a minute with one girl, then a few minutes with another as he made his way down the isle. Harry enjoyed the way all the girls clamored with excitement that he was doing the lesson. He'd nearly made it the full length of the busy isle before he realized two things. One, he was not helping Kyla. He was substituting for her again. Two?

There was no Louis.

The lesson was dependent upon getting it underway so Harry was immediately quite busy. He had eight girls to have on eight horses. He could not do this task alone with distractions. The girls very much adored Harry and thus they had no qualms about pushing him constantly to notice them individually. It was part crushing on him and part pride in themselves, but they were relentless and demanding. Harry couldn't afford to give any of his thoughts to why Louis wasn't in the lesson although he suspected it was because Kyla was not there. Harry as a fellow program attendee by their rules couldn't be in charge of Louis' riding instruction becaus of liability.

Thankfully there were two girls in lesson who knew exactly where Harry's head was. 

Ashtyn, a girl with hair and curls to rival Harry's and a wit to match that of Louis' rode over to him at one point and pulled her large black horse to a stop suggesting her tack had some issues by her fussing over it.

"Can you help me?" She asked. It was a deception. Harry came beside her horse assuming from how she pulled her foot from the irons that she needed an adjustment of her stirrup length. He started to pull the buckle loose to adjust when Ashtyn said, "You know Harry you are shit at being clever. Hum?"

Harry felt inflated by this pint sized pre-adolescent. Then he realized she was what, thirteen? 

"Nice, Ash, nice. So you talk to all people older than you like that, or is this my lucky day?"

"Hum," she said deciding not to adjust the length of her stirrup leather as it was perfect already. She shoved her spur clad boot back into the stirrup iron and sassed him. "If you're really wondering where your boyfriend is maybe you should look for Zayn. He came in to the barn to look for Louis before most of us got here. Since Kyla isn't here seems the "peoples" in charge figured if Zayn needed his pick of help he could have Louis. Zayn, Louis and some big guy who looks like Zayn's cousin left the barn about five minutes before you got here. Seems you spent too long under that tree dreaming of rainbows and butterflies so you missed Louis." 

Ashtyn turned to ride off commenting that she saw Harry their when her mom drove her in. Harry was pretty sure he said "thanks" to Ashtyn. He couldn't be certain of much else he said after that because of the idea of Louis near Nazir. 

A short while later the lesson was nearly over. Harry was still stuck at the arena overseeing these girls until the post lesson process was done. It could be easily an hour or more by the time the girls were finished unpacking, grooming and cooling out their horses before Harry could go look for Louis.

Indeed almost an hour later Harry was struggling to avoid letting anyone see him as grumpy. The girls couldn't move fast enough through the post lesson duties.

Harry was ready to explode when he finally left the arena. A sprint to where Harry read on the daily assignments the names Zayn and Nazir were placed had Harry rounding a blind corner and colliding with Niall. Neither was hurt but Harry did knock the Irishman to the ground. Full of apologies Harry was pulling Niall up as he looked past Niall where Zayn and Nazir were still busy with some project.

There was no Louis.

"Niall, sorry, you okay? Where's Louis? Wasn't he here all afternoon?"

The questions were fired off fast. Niall took from the urgency that the only question that really was of importance was the last. 

"You missed him, yes, he was. So was I. Then Calum and Michael came a short while ago and the three of them left together." Niall read Harry's expression. "Don't worry Harry, me and Zayn kept him safe. That bloke Nazir has such a massive crush on Louis to the point of being an absolute idiot."

Their eyes met. Harry was grateful that Niall was so understanding. If Niall had left any doubt all chances for Harry continuing in progress at the program would vanish. Harry would do physical harm to this new guy before he'd see him touch Louis.

"So it was cool. Nothing happened?"

Niall made his adorable cackling laugh that was so contagious and like merriment of the leprechaun gods. "Happened? No, naturally other than Zayn had to keep trying to find ways to get Louis to make the art stands look like art stands instead of penises. But then what was Zayn thinking? Wasn't it just a few weeks ago when at the Festival of the Horse Louis was drawling penises on everything at the art station? He really is such a..."

Harry's gaze sharpened. Was Niall saying too much? 

Niall chocked off his conclusion and put an arm around Harry to take Harry along with him. He made a parting wave to Zayn then spoke on a revised subject. "Come on Harry. Help me find Li. You owe us. I want you to stand watch at the arena while Liam and I have a quicky in the tack room."

Harry's tall stature softened with Niall's gentle guidance. He went willingly, though still bothered him, be it a little less about Nazir. Newly concerning was why Louis left early. This was another occasion of Louis disappearing with a pair of the Australians who were by Harry's understanding nemesis to Louis.

"What was up with Calum and Michael? What did they want Louis for?" 

"Not sure Harry. Wouldn't worry though. Louis seemed to be expecting them. He went willingly enough so if you mean the pranking thing is worrying you,"

"You know about that?" Harry asked surprised. "How?"

"I saw 'em, Louis, doing things to them, Louis with things to do things that lead to what happen to them. Not sure they've figured it out though. No, don't think from today that they have. Calum always still looks like he wants to punch Louis which is just Calum from day one because Louis is proud gay. Too much for Calum. Michael though seems real chill with Louis. So I don't think they suspect a thing. 

Come on, Harry, let's find Liam."

***

Later it was Liam, Niall and Harry sitting at dinner. Two of them seemed very relaxed and despite the annoying absence of Zayn as part of their regular group; they were too post-dicking bliss to be absorbed in much other than cuteness with each other.

Harry was getting to the point of wanting to rip his own eyes out from watching them, listening to their cuteness with each other when he felt a delicate touch of fingers covering his eyes from a person who was standing behind him unexpectedly. 

It was Louis. His soft Neely was pressing into the back of Harry's head as he kept his hands over Harry's eyes. 

"I love you. Oops, I meant, guess who?"

The hands lifted and Louis slid into a spot entirely too close up against Harry while picking up some fruit from Harry's plate. He shoved it immediately into Harry's mouth when Harry opened his mouth the speak. As if that wasn't enough to silence Harry from any response he also began talking to Liam and Niall while continuously shoving more response- halting fruit at Harry. He wasn't siting with them like a person who was settling at the table. His body was in a twist to face Harry but he was on the seat with his feet pointed away from under the table. This side saddle manner of sitting was one indication he wasn't joining them, but there was also the notable lack of any food.

The questions he peppered Liam and Niall with were the type of banter that was low importance. Certainly not the scale of conversation to follow the...

...what

...was

...it?

Harry was confused. As he going to get to say something about what Louis just said? Between the chip much chatter and rapid feeding Harry was stuck. 

Louis picked up a delicious-looking, mouth-sized strawberry. It was a succulent red and very likely to be perfection. He moved to offer it to Harry. Harry immediately put one hand over his own mouth and the other hand gently wrapped around Louis' strawberry-offering hand. Harry wanted to get back to what it was Louis said when his hands were covering Harry's eyes.

Before that could happen they all were interrupted by Zayn and Nazir. The two late arrivals had their food on trays but stopped not to join, apparent by their slightly reserved manner.

Zayn smiled at everyone with his eyes lingering with a hint more of something flirty when they met Liam and Niall's. Then he inquired to Louis. "Louis, you're going to sit with us tonight, right?" 

There was Louis looking up at Zayn and Nazir his motion to feed Harry suspended by Harry own will. But then as Zayn continued on, "The lads won't mind just one time right?" Louis pulled his hand away from Harry's. Ever so slowly he took the strawberry to his own mouth.

If there had been any chance that this action by Louis was deliberate that notion evaporated when Louis stopped short of popping the berry into his own mouth immediately. Furthemore the notion of the berry as food was fractured when it went between his lips and Louis sucked on just the tip of it. He slurped. Then he pulled it away ever so slightly. Using the tip of his tongue he barely touched the tip to the strawberry with it. His tongue had a split second of lingering before he made a kitten lick over the berry then put the whole thing into his mouth and hummed. 

To those who looked on to witness this they bore an expression as if all air had left the vicinity because, well, it was like all air had left the room. The sexuality to this strawberries' final moments. There were several seconds of shocked silence wherein everyone, Harry, Liam, Niall, Zayn and Nazir were all gaping at the suggestiveness. 

Zayn was the quickest to recover. "Right? We can borrow Louis just this once. Still breaking in the new guy here...Nazir? Nazir?" 

Zayn had to state Nazir's name and repeat it because when he looked away from his four mates seated, three of whom had a stunned blank, deer in the headlights, kind of dazed look the frightening thing was that look was a hundred times more intense on Nazir's face.

Louis brushed off the whole affair by standing. His half-seated position made sense because he had only dropped into a seat for a few minutes as he promised earlier to seat himself somewhere else. 

"Sure. M'just here to feed Harry fruit since he's still a growing boy." 

Louis winked at Harry. And he gave Harry "the fond smile". It was that smile. The one Harry first got when Louis and he walked back from the day he found Louis in the meadow with Snowball. Since that day Harry had gotten that smile many times he knew. Many many times. As Louis walked over to a private table leaving them behind Harry replayed all the times in a rapid stream and tried to resist jealousy. 

And he thought the words. "I love you too." They stayed in his head. His lips wouldn't let them free. 

*** 

In time no amount of reassurance was putting Harry at ease. He sat through dinner fuming when he saw Nazir laughing at everything Louis said. More so he couldn't tolerate Niall and Liam's calmness over his predicament. Weren't they tired as well of all the special conditions given to Nazir? 

This escalated into conflict between the three of them. Much of the tension was made worse because Harry had a clear straight view of the table where Zayn, Nariz and Louis sat with one counselor. Zayn's advisor, for obvious reasons of being a cultural specialist, was working with Nazir too. Not only was Nazir enjoying Louis, but Harry noticed the older man was all smiles over Louis who appeared entertaining and animated. 

Harry grew increasingly frustrated. He got to a point where an outburst was riding under the surface. He made childish threats about Nazir. He grumbled over all things he saw exchanged at the table. He studied every detail making one negative remark following another as he chronicled them to Liam and Niall. Then Harry completely snapped. Niall had just said "Relax, Harry it's dinner once. Not like Louis is spending all day, every day with Nazir like Zayn is doing. You don't see Li and me complaining." 

Niall was right. Harry hated it. True or not. 

"Relax. Did you say relax? Not all day? Niall do you even think before you talk? How would you feel if Nazir made even one look in Zayn's direction like he was drooling for a taste. That wanker looks constantly hungry for a piece of Louis? So relax you say! Relax? 

Liam reached over the table and put a hand on Harry's arm. "Harry, Niall is right. You need to chill Harry, now."

Harry didn't see it but Liam noticed that those sitting at tables around them were beginning to be drawn into Harry's intensifying tantrum. Concern for Harry was Liam's motivation. He and Niall could see clearly what Harry was missing. It was the only important thing. Harry loved Louis. And Louis loved Harry. And really in the big scheme of things nothing else mattered. 

***

When Harry entered his room later it was curfew and he was lucky to just make it back. Liam had taken him from the dining lodge to go for a walk to calm down, cool off and chip the anger away that had encapsulate Harry. How ironic was that? The two who once had such a destructive relationship walked around the barns, wandering through them. They stopped to pet the curious and friendly horses as they casually talked like friends who been there for so long that they seemed like brothers.

Liam was no longer this closed-up, homophobic, loner. And as a friend to Harry in need he was incredibly sensitive, perceptive and thoughtful. They walked. They talked. The time went fast without them following it so suddenly it was curfew.

In the dark room Harry reached for his light switch when he was hit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update is coming quick behind this. I'm just tired of editing for now. 
> 
> And am I "cheesy" with the mini cliffhanger? I cannot even decide so I have to get outside.


	34. Why was he like this?

To be assaulted inside the door of his room was completely unexpected, but arms arms went around Harry tackling him against the door behind him. Before Harry could speak lips were pressing to his. 

"Louis?" Harry tried to say. Oddly the inquiry came out as "Mouis?" 

The only reply was Louis' clever,"strawberry-licking" tongue which licked into Harry's mouth urgently seeking Harry's acceptance. Louis' hands which had brought their bodies together sprung to work at disrobing Harry in the dark. Feeling their way, Louis' body leaned off Harry's only so much as that purpose required. It all felt very urgent and demanding.

Whimpering his frustration with Harry's clothing, Louis broke off to momentary struggle with Harry's pants, whispering, "Just need to be, to feel you..." 

Louis hushed himself quick enough because once Harry helped in the last steps of removing his own clothes Harry's hands turned to running over Louis' body. With Harry's touch Louis resumed fevered kissing, moaning and molding himself into Harry. 

The next surprise to Harry was that his hands discovered that Louis' body was already entirely naked. Harry swept over every inch of Louis generously traversing as much of the bare body as he could while standing there still pressed against the door. 

In one instant Harry's hands cradled opposites sides of Louis' face while they kissed. The next his thumbs graced Louis' sharp cheekbones with a gentle brush. Then his hands skimmed down along Louis' shoulders where thumbs pressed over prominent collarbones before he ran his hands on downward further. 

The next sensation was becoming a familiar habit for Harry. Reaching nirvana-land. 

On prior occasions he was astonished at how big his own hands seemed when he fanned them out across Louis' torso. The comparison of his hands verses Louis' body when he held Louis made him aware how much smaller Louis was than him. And Louis' waist seemed so tiny too, yes. But when he lowered his hands still further that was where his brain stumbled the most at reconciling what his senses reported. What was this? The swell, the arc, the curve. That transition from tiny waist to full booty. It was unreal to imagine if it were not for the act of touching it. 

Why was Louis made like this? Why was he so sexual with Harry all the time? Why was he so naughty and slutty and yet sweet too? All of it? All in one? Why did his being like this do what it was doing from day one to Harry? Why? Why was Louis like thiis? 

Harry had probably spent hours just before asking many of these questions of Liam while they walked around and talked. Liam had a few chances to state his feelings about himself and his two lovers, how that was in terms of struggling to understand things as a threesome. But mostly their time wandering through the barns was spent with Harry doing the talking, asking questions to which he wasn't really expecting Liam to have answers; Harry only needed to say them out loud. 

"Liam, why did he eat that strawberry like that with everyone watching? Didn't he know how erotic that was?" "Why did he make this stands into penis shapes?" And so on had been the nature of Harry's questions. 

But now the question was what where they going to do? He and Louis. In his dark room after curfew, breaking all the rules. Together like the time they had been apart as lovers was an eternity not the hours countable within one day. 

As soon as Harry hands were to Louis' hips they easily slid on over Louis' plump bum and squeezed booty. Groping it, filling his hands with it, pulling it. The only distraction was Harry's own erection which ached for more sensations of its own. His engorged cock was hard between their compressed bodies. Louis' erection was hard too pressing into Harry's thigh. It's touch dampened a spot on Harry's leg like his slit might be wet with precum. 

One thought of Louis dripping for him was all it took. Harry picked Louis up with Louis moaning "yes" which muffled when he pushed deeper into their kiss and took his legs around Harry's waist.

"Louis your beautiful bum feels, um, like you're wet." Harry mumbled. His hands that slid to lift Louis contacted some moistness to suggest this.

"Um huh, made me self proper ready while I waited for you. Used all your lube Curly," Louis said while clinging on Harry and reluctantly talking over their kisses. 

"Could hardly stand having my fingers open me when all I thought of was your mouth. These lips Harry, your tongue, the way you use them to lick me open. So red, strawberry red are your lips when you look at me as you eat me out. Then you smile. It's all dimples. Perfect lips, red. Perfect teeth. A tongue that makes me scream for your cock. Then, now..." "Need your cock in me so bad. Must..." Louis dropped his will to finish his words with an exasperated whine as he gave into pressing back into a kiss. 

Harry made a step toward his bed with Louis suspended in his hold above the floor. This made Louis withdraw completely from their kiss and drop his legs to stop the move. 

"No, not like that Harry. Up against this wall, door, whatever. Just want it like you need to punish me for before."

Louis spoke his desire and pulled them together, pushing back closer to the door. He had a tone in his voice like he was pouting for this. It was dark and Harry couldn't see the expression yet he was certain Louis had a pout on his lips.

"Punish you? For before? What? Oh, you mean for the strawberry erotica show in the dining hall? I didn't really notice." The last part Harry added to sound aloft and cool, maybe to be funny and sarcastic. After all he'd been three hours of more of talking about that. 

Louis replied very matter of factly. "Well, um, yeah. For that then. The strawberry." Answer stated, Louis practically jumped back into Harry's arms. He pulled himself into Harry and began to nuzzle and nibble along Harry's neck and shoulders. Interruptions only came in the form of demands.

"Press me back into the wall Curly."

"Pin me there."

"Impale me with your cock."

"Come on Curly, fuck me like you want me to not walk tomorrow."

Harry was mesmerized by all the stimulation and demands. His senses couldn't assimilate anything other than Louis, his demands. It took over Harry's will for self control. 

***

Why was Louis like that? Was the first thought popping into his brain after Harry came. 

Harry held Louis' quivering sweaty body with growing difficulty from what was a long expenditure of physical exertion. Louis was still plastered between him and the door behind them. Harry felt the cum dripping in streams from Louis' hole which Was still filled with his cock. Louis' bent legs must have been very tired too at this point; Harry tried to think of how to move away from the support of the wall without dropping his lover. Both their bodies must be completely exhausted from the fury and force that Harry pounded them through their orgasms with. 

The dark still made everything hard to see but he assumed the sound from Louis who was suppressing screams as he came minutes ago were suggestions that Louis was throughly wrecked. Louis had tipped his head forward leaning against Harry when he came down. 

A slight stirring by Harry had one arm of Louis' going more tightly around the back of Harry's neck and the other risked relinquishing helping to hold on by going to a flat press over Harry's chest. Fingers tips moved ever so slightly. Unspoken, but Harry knew. Louis was tapping on the door to his heart. 

Why was he like this?

A massive effort, as exhaustion weighed Harry's limbs more than Louis' weight, and Harry took them both to his bed. 

"Curly so good. M'tired. Sleep, then fuck more." Louis said like using full sentences and complete words was impossible. 

Harry was giggling over the way Louis was mutable and soft. Like a sleepy kitten he accepted Harry placing them on the bed and began nuzzling his face into Harry's neck making shivers from the tickling effect overtake Harry's body. The only effort Louis made was to keep his face buried into Harry, pressing his limbs against Harry's and keeping that one hand over Harry's heart. 

"Louis we can't get caught like this..."

Louis was out. The softness of his breaths told Harry he might not have heard a single syllable so the point was mute. Harry thought he should give Louis a few minutes then wake him. Just a few minutes...

***

It was a razor sharp light that hit Harry breaking his sleep. Jolted unkindly into wakefulness brought be the sun blazing over the mountains with light streaming into his window Harry sat upright. He heard Liam loud in the hall. With that he realized they had fallen asleep and stayed together in Harry's bed the entire night. 

Again Harry heard Liam who was very loud for so early in the day. His voice sounded closer too. What he said was directed to someone speaking quietly. " 

"Louis? Did I see Louis? Yeah, last I saw him he was in the main lodge."

Hearing voices from in the hallway Harry jumped with alarm. It was a search. 

Across the room Louis was standing at his window trying to open it. That Louis had slept with him the entire night startled Harry even more. Bordering on panic, it dawned on Harry that Louis, not in his room last night, was a fact discovered and now there was a room to room search. Liam's loud talking was alerting them. 

Harry got up and tried to decide what to do; lock his door or help Luis with the window. Realizing neither was viable idea he looked around. Voices in the hall indicated someone searching was nearing his room. 

At the window Louis was signing "hush" and maybe "stay". "You stay" to be precise while still he struggled at the window with the latch. 

Sure enough Liam's words to a staff member in the hall told them that Liam was feeding them a lie. Harry seized with fright. How bad was this going to be?

The sound of Louis finally getting the window to slide open made Harry go from fear of discovery of sleeping with another boy to fears for the worse. Why was Louis even considering the window? Harry's room was on the third floor. A fall could be fatal.

Louis was climbed onto the window ledge where he paused to look back at Harry after a quick glance at the options outside the tower-like trap. Opposing Louis was the lack of an easy escape. What was Louis thinking? 

Louis smiled. 

Louis fucking looked out once more than back at Harry and s m i l d. 

It was as if he was fucking Peter Pan. Perched on the windowsill. The ground a dangerous level beneath him. And yet he smiled at Harry like this was fun and games. 

The knob on Harry's door turned. With that Louis disappeared. Harry saw a toehold at the edge of the windowsill as the room was entered and then Louis was completely gone. Harry was quick to flop down on his bed like he was sleeping so when two people entered his room they met nothing of interest. Louis' counselor and a nightguard on staff stood there.

"Harry, were checking rooms sorry to enter unannounced." 

They looked confused. Perhaps they expected to see Louis too because already searched were Louis' other closest mates, Zayn, Niall and Liam. The nightguard went to stand where he could see the far side of Harry's bed. He opened the small closet and peeked under the bed. With an apology and no sign of Louis they stepped out. For his part Harry rubbed his eyes and acted like the entire thing was not a visit he could have ever expected. 

In the hall Liam was waiting as the two men exited. Liam slipped past them stepping into Harry's room offering to them a repeated ruse, "In the main lodge, I said. I saw Louis there last."

Once inside the door Liam closed it which had Hary launching from the bed to scramble to the window. Both lads met there. They looked out. 

Louis was several rooms to the left of where Harry's room was using the lodge construction style structure of tongue and groove to take his escape. Rock climbing was a popular sport in the region, but this? The logs were all log shaped, so curved. The groove area where one met the other was not deeply recessed. It was remarkable that Louis was able to hold on. Harry was simultaneously glad Louis was not flat out broken on the ground below but sicken too by watching him slowly making his way along the exterior like Spider-Man. 

Liam put his arm across Harry's shoulder. Reassuringly he added "He's almost to the corner Harry. He makes it there and the logs coming to join at the corner make a ladder. He can do this...the nimble litte fuck." Liam's tone was both reassuring and playful mocking of skills he found hard to concieve.

Indeed Louis made his way to the corner. He started down the easy part as Liam defined it. Half way to the ground his foot slipped and Louis fell. He sat up quickly and looked over to Harry's window. Louis was all smiles. He got up from the ground making a gesture that suggested he was uncertain why it happened that he fell. He was clearly unscathed. 

Liam heard the two men were at the last room on that floor so Liam yelled from within Harry's room. "I said already, he was in the dining lodge...last night! Maybe you should look there!" 

It was loud for two purposes. One, Liam wanted to make it clear that Louis was not out of his room breaking rules by sleeping in another lad's room. Secondly, now that Louis was clear of being caught in Harry's room Liam wanted Louis to know where he should go to be discovered. 

Getting caught in a room not your own. Very, very bad. Getting caught fraternizing in the private quarters of a staff person, like Harry did with Nick, the absolute worse. There were times that things happened. Accounting for them was case by case. Once a boy was found to have gotten locked in a storage room. His innocent enough mistake was forgiven. In contrast, when the five of them went out the night of that storm because Niall ran away, there was a huge fallout. Penalties for breaking the rules were assessed and given measured discipline. 

Harry wasn't sure Louis heard Liam. Hanging out the window he pointed for Louis to go to the dining lodge gesturing like a mime with the best his charade skills could muster. 

One nod from Louis indicated he got it and he took off at a sprint. 

Harry fell back from the window exasperated and spent from the suspense. "Why was Louis like this?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sex inspired by Karukara's series of Explicit Larry's on Tumblr.


	35. Like ink of a tattoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cake by the Ocean is in my head. And the images of cake coated Louis at the club GAY. So I give you this.

 

Somehow the hours of the day creeped by and Harry was denied what he wanted most. 

Contact any contact with Louis. 

It was like waking together that morning had left Harry drunken with the need for more of what the night before had been. A chance maybe to freshen some marks on Louis' skin. To feel those lips on his. To take in Louis' scent. And maybe even add enough of Louis into his own skin too, like ink of a tattoo. This Harry woke to need. Need desperately if he was to get through the moments of the day without fear. 

Fear that the next day was the big barbecue and bonfire and yet still no word had come out about Louis going with Harry and the others for gathering cattle with Will. 

Fear also that the new guy, the one who would be at Bar 3 long after Harry left, would take Harry's place with Louis.

These were Harry's fears. Those along with a third concern he'd almost forgotten and that returned when Harry looked out the window while pacing around in his counselor's office as he emoted to Derek in the second story room. It was then that he spied Louis for the first time since Louis left his room earlier that morning. But now there was Harry's Louis walking across the grounds with two of the Austrlians. 

It was a curious, inexplicable association Harry caught a fleeting glimpse of. Harry forgot what he was saying to Derek when he saw the three. He plastered himself to the window and sought any clue from their postures of their intent. Was Louis an unwilling participant in this rendez-vous? Or worse, was he along for the ride? 

Harry had gone from elated in the morning to this misery by day's end. Seeing this group of three made it worse. It had been a day that had begun with he and Liam watching as Louis ran off to create an illusion he wasn't out of his room and in Harry's by going to the main lodge. From what they learned Louis was discovered there, apparently pulled off the lie that he had fallen asleep in the lodge the night before and so he was spared penalty. But as the day unfolded for most lads at the ranch with everyone busy preparing for the bonfire celebration of the next day, no Louis was to be seen.

And there now was Louis. With the Australians. 

Harry stared out the window. 

Derek waited while Harry fell silent. 

Then seeing the time was late Derek decided Harry's abrupt silence was sign enough that they should resume the discussion another time. He set down his pen, closed up his notebook and made his way over to Harry's side. 

Standing there beside him Harry assumed Derek had missed spotting what had captured his interest since the three lads disappeared around the corner of a barn. Derek looked out. For a moment they both stood quietly like each might be taking in the beauty of the mountain vista. Putting an arm over Harry's shoulder, Derek offered a kind reminder of the things they had achieved in their session this day. Letting Harry absorb the words in a minute of silence Derek spoke again to add a final, off-subject remark. 

"You know Harry, I had lunch today with a colleague. It seems there was some speculation among us couselors about one of the boys here and where he might have spent his night last night. Some talk was that he wasn't where he was supposed to be. Sort of could be bad if he was, um. So. Um, I'm saying be careful what you do these days Harry. You're so close." 

*** 

That night at dinner Harry was thrilled to see that for once Zayn was not seated with Nazir, in fact when Harry encountered Zayn he was leaving the dining hall and off across the room Harry saw it was Niall and Liam who were entertaining the new guy. Still there was no Louis. 

Seeing Zayn apart from the new interloper for the first time all week Harry was effusive. He grabbed Zayn and wrapped him in a hug. 

Zayn, always the reserved one, stood there stiff, immobile and said, "Okay?"

Enduring the hug was the best way to describe it. When Harry did finally let go Zayn had warmed enough to the idea that Harry had a lot going on in his head. By the way Harry's eyes immediately went to a study of Nazir, Zayn knew without words, why. 

"Jeez, Harry, settle okay. Why are you doing this to yourself?" 

"What? You mean feeling a jealous rage, incinerating hate and overwhelming urge to murder Nazir?" 

"Yeah, that. Not actually sure I was going with those words, but yeah." 

"It's obvious Zayn. That wanker has got such obsession for..." 

"For? For what? What is it that Louis is to you Harry? See, I'm going to ask you this because I'm pretty sure you can't put a name on it can you? Is he a piece of ass? Some fuckbuddy you pass time with? A claim you stake like it used to be with Liam? What? What is it? What is Louis to you?" 

Harry was mute. This shocked him. Zayn was blatantly direct. In an instant Harry was struck by the notion that Zayn really could be, surprisingly a little, but yes, a very talented counselor in his own rights, all be it that his approach was unrefined and harsh, but yes. Zayn went to the heart of the question. What was Louis to Harry? 

Harry thought to speak. And in his typical slow to start manner of doing so he seemed to only serve to frustrate Zayn because his "ummms" were run over by Zayn who blurted out an additional bit of the equation. 

"Look Harry, Nazir is not your concern okay. He's not. Sure he's stupidly brandishing a massive crush on Louis. So what? Louis isn't having it. He isn't. He's completely and totally into you. You Harry." 

Harry took a stab at interrupting Zayn and made his statement to argue the contrary. "But Niall said Louis was making art stands that looked like penises when you were working together, Louis with you and Nazir, Louis making his into penises..." 

Zayn snorted a laugh. It was the kind of laugh that suggested someone had said something stupid and pathetic. "Yeah, Harry, he was. And he kept going on about how he couldn't get your perfect dick off his mind. He was obnoxious. As much as Nazir tried to make himself appealing in his attempts to get Louis' attension Louis delt back in spades this sickening obsession over you. It was at times cute and at other times just total pornographic overload. So if Nazir hasn't figured it out that Louis is crazy in love with you than he's an idiot. Not saying he doesn't still want something, but Louis is clearly not responding to Nazir." 

"The question remains, Harry. What is Louis to you? How are you responding to Louis? Another conquest or something you want to put a name on?" 

With the open question stated Zayn stepped around Harry and walked away. He barely made the effort to hide he was violating rules as he walked, taking out his smokes and lighting up. His only hesitation was to call back over his shoulder to Harry. "And Harry, you might want to figure that out before Saturday." 

"Saturday? What? Wait!" Harry ran to catch Zayn. "Saturday? Why, wha-what do you know about Saturday?" 

Zayn stopped. His impatience was clearly driven by his need to smoke and not wanting to be seen doing so but the desperation in his friend made him pause his steps. He stood there looking like everything that was perfect and so Zayn. Gorgeous, flawless, too unreal to be described. So stunning was Zayn as he put his cigarette to his full lips that for a split second Harry had the fleeting unasked question flash across his brain of "why have we never fucked, why?" Never mind that the idea of them was zero interest because of this thing Louis was. Whatever, because that was the question. 

"Harry I know the rancher to the south requested help getting some stray cows off his place. I know it's an overnight thing. You're going. Me, Liam and Niall." Zayn took a long drag a toyed a moment with the joy of seeing Harry's face twisted with such anticipation. 

"And this afternoon I saw two wranglers went out taking Louis for some kind of riding test. I think there was a specific request by the rancher. The staff here isn't too happy about that because Louis nearly, well, he could have died. It seems though that the rancher specifically asked for Louis. what I sa today looked like Louis had to pass a little riding test to prove he would do okay from the staff's point of view. I guessing from how it looked when they rode back that Louis did more than okay. Either that or Louis just annoyed them into caving because they were all smiles and back-patting Louis when they returned. And the wranglers here are known for being anything but soft and lovey. I think Louis made an impression. You have Kyla to thank for that. And Louis. He wants you, to be with you." 

"So Harry you might want to think. What is Louis to you?" With that question Zayn walked off leaving Harry to ponder. 

*** 

Harry never did see Louis before the next day. When he did they all were busy. Everyone at the ranch was consumed with tasks to prepare for a fantastic celebration that included a huge bonfire after a serving classic western cookout fare akin to the feast for activities like branding or barn raising. 

Meat that was slow cooked throughout the day over a pit fire scented the air. Side dishes of every imaginable variety filled tables as soon as they were set up and covered with checked cloths. Cookies and pies were available in every variety imaginable, although the star desert was a huge cake to revival the biggest of weddings cakes with it ascending layers. It was made with the regional delicacy of huckleberry cake and covered in a thick white frosting adorned with a rim of the succulent berries. 

For all the boys in the program it was a great deal of fun setting all this up and bring out dish after dish. Boys from gangs that were normally in conflict seemed a little less unfriendly within each other and everyone looked forward to the food and reverie. 

Some poor fool had given that task of bringing out the cake to Louis and Michael. As most boys were busy with less precarious tasks it went unnoticed how bad this assignment was awarded until it was already too late. 

Harry had been watching most closely, for obvious reasons. It was Nazir wandering over to ask if he could help Louis and Michael which really drew Harry's attention. Some conversation between Michael and Nazir had Louis giving Michael a unreadable expression. 

Whatever was said it made Nazir step back looking startled. Harry took two steps in the direction of the three when Louis took a swipe of frosting and slapped it across Michael's face. 

Nazir laughed and stepped into Louis. This made Harry hasten his pace. He was not fast enough nor were any of the other people who became drawn into the cake-side affair because Michael was able to take the top tier of the stacked cake, a piece rice as large as a cupcake, but very loaded in frosting, and he creamed it quite literally on Louis. Contact was to the face with Michael rubbing it in a trail going down from where he hit Louis to run the length of Louis' shirt thoroughly "caking" Louis. 

Around this everyone who was near was shocked and came into closer. Harry's rush to Louis brought him to the scene where the context was much different than Harry expected because cake-smeared Louis was beaming with delight and laughing at his condition. Louis swiped some of the smeared sweets off himself and began licking it from coated fingers as he replied to Michael. 

"This feels kinda natural to me, m a t e, always happy to lick vicious white..." Louis stopped mid sentence because Harry, an assortment of boys and two counsellors were now standing there. Everyone bore a priceless range of expressions. There was concern, shock, amazed, amused and quite a few looks that could be best described as boarderline aroused. 

"What the hell are you three doing?" The counselor asked. 

The man named Reggie was assigned to work with the Austarlians. Harry didn't know Reggie well but he was considered easy-going by nature and generally amused by adolescent antics. This situation had him uncharacteristically unsettled. Perhaps it was that this giant desert was the featured star of the desert table, now it was disparaged. Or maybe he had heard Louis' homoerotic reference. He didn't look happy in any respect. 

Reggie began berating the three. Nazir slumped, Michael looked sheepish. And Louis? 

He looked Reggie in the eyes with disregard for authority. He listened to the counselor's red-faced rant and kept swiping white frosting off himself with two fingers that went into his mouth. Sexual fantasy was undeniable watching this because Louis made it a point to do it in as suggestive a manner as he could all the while keeping his expression playful with a raise of his eyebrows to suggest he found the adult man's frustration delightful. Harry could only think of Louis plugging his fingers into himself after he'd wetted them like that with saliva from his mouth as Harry had memorably witnessed before. 

A lot of what Reggie said had to have been lost on those surrounding this performance. 

One by one more of the boy's faces went from their initial reactions to laughing, to becoming more nervous laughing and eventually, for even the most homo-loathing, embarrassed, aroused-laughing. 

When Louis switched from licking his fingers to whiping them elsewhere Harry found himself laughing an uncomfortable laugh but with a sincere admiration for Louis unabashedly shameful lack of caring for the boundaries. Louis simply ran a hand with jizz-like substance down across the front of his pants. It was intentionally directed to start at his jean button and head south right over his crotch. 

Reggie choked with that. Most everyone else just stopped all laughter too and jaws dropped. Harry heard a few whispered gasps from those around him. "Shameless slut", "prick teasing whore" and a few more that comments that ran together. 

A scene once amusing was suddenly quiet. That was when Louis' counselor cut between onlookers and saw the center of the show was his charge. He assessed the damage in an instant and went forward to grasp Louis by a sticky hand and ushered him out of the crowd with harshly spoken words "With me, Tomlinson, now!" traveling through the air as he tugged Louis along leaving the shocked onlookers in their wake. 

In some ways it was the news about who would be going home that suspended all differences that separated the group of boys. Harry had been through more of these graduation parties than most. This was his second coming of fall graduation festivity. He knew how it would go. There'd be food, food, more food. Sun set approaching the fire pit that had been the place where the meat had been cooking all day would be transformed into a bonfire. 

Announcements were being made about who would be going home in the weeks ahead. As this news was breaking Louis was still not back. The feast was beginning and yet no Louis. He and his counselor had been gone for more than and hour. 

It was always interesting to see how the night unfolded after such news. Arch enemies would come together. Feelings of animosity would be put aside. Long standing friends might have some tears. Whatever the relationships were before this night at each quarter end, after the announcement in the weeks to follow all dynamics would change. In graduations past Harry preyed on the newly vulnerable. The instability gave him a kick to use broken groups as starting place for playing with someone. He'd be unkind.

Now the news was up. Harry was on the list to leave after the next quarter end. So were Liam, Niall, and naturally Zayn who was likely to have left in the next several days if he wasn't choosing, Harry had learned, to stay the full quarter. But what about Louis?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pagan or not, trees are pre Christian traditions so I got one from the forest service here and I need comments to put under it. Please share them if you are able.


	36. Alpine

Most of the boys had finished eating and were standing around the bonfire or seated on surrounding logs that were positioned like camp chairs as a circle around the fire. What had been a hot, hot day was changing. Always in the mountains when the sun dropped behind the higher peaks the temperatures dropped too. It was not unusual for a 95 degree day to reach 40 or less at night. Any given month, even in the summer snow was always a possibility. Temperatures had probably lowered to about 60 when Louis showed up again.

Louis and his counselor walked back together and while Louis headed to get a plate to fill with food his counselor went to Reggie and the two staff talked. Harry went to Louis but looked over to the men seeing that there was still frustration in the air between them. Reggie was gesturing and emphatically hashing out his aurgument. It was absolutely likely to be about Louis' conduct earlier. Louis' counselor, Tony, an unflappably calm indidvual seemed unpersuaded. 

Harry slipped in close behind Louis who was serving himself. He didn't notice Harry's approach.

Leaning down slightly Harry was compelled. His lips positioned close like his brain hadn't a clue how to control their attraction to Louis. Harrys senses flared with the effects of Louis filling one pace his proximity was so immediate. The amber skin his gaze fixed on was so inviting; the scent was like a siren's call. 

"Resist" Harry told himself. 

Out of the corner of his eye there was a split second where Harry caught each Tony and Reggie taking a quick assessing glance over at the subject of their conflict. Louis. They each saw Harry pressing informally, posessively close to Louis.

That was when Louis felt Harry's presence. He turned looking up at Harry. 

Immediately his head tilted questioning lay and face lit with a smile. 

"Currrleee." Louis said. 

He took a finger and hooked a lock of Harry's hair to twist and release as was his typical manner of playful greeting.

"Hey, Louis." 

Harry's eyes went to Louis lips because after a split second of eye contact Louis had himself turned his focus to Harry's mouth. He shifted his attention there and wet his own lis with his tongue. 

There they were. Both staring at the other's mouth and Louis holding a plate of food. An awkward moment of silence hung in the air before Louis broke off to reach for a napkin and some utensils. Harry wanted to "resist" his urges. The desire was to throw Louis on the table and really really coat him in food, nevermind that cake stuff, as they had a passionate outbreak, a public spectacle for all to see like Harry was free. Free and screaming to the world his love. Instead Harry cut to the essential questions.

"What happened? Are things okay? You've been gone forever."

"It's all good Harry. Me and Tony had a bit of a chat. It's completely okay though."

"You've were gone for almost two hours Louis. Most of the food is cold now."

"Yeah. Well maybe Tony wanted to give Reggie a chance to chill down. He's such a tight wanker sometimes. Did I miss anything? Any big news on rotations? I heard Tony talking like Zayn was going to get his graduation out. That's going to kill Liam and Niall."

Louis was looking into Harry's eyes again when he asked about Zayn. How could Harry tell him? 

Harry looked down not wanting his act of hiding to be revealed in his eyes. 

"Well Zayn has been way ahead on a lot of things. Guess while he's reserved with us, mostly, except you, but yeah, he's been working on his issues effectively. He's been promoted in the rotation. He's gone on with enough of his post graduation plans that he could leave real soon but apparently he's going to stay through the quarter. So he won't be abandoning Liam and Niall."

Harry could tell that Louis was listening with interest. Harry wanted to say the words. He, Liam, Niall, all had been put on the list of those now to focus on making their post graduation plans. For some reaso Harry couldn't even thought Louis was looking at him with openness and innocence. Hopeful expectations were evident in his attentiveness. 

In essence, Zayn was officially reclassified. He'd had new duties, new boundaries, but in affect he was a student, apprenticing at Bar 3, no longer a participant. He'd be moved to new quarters, offered a stipend. And to the staff a professional. At least that's how the staff classified Zayn. Others like Zayn who had graduated had been making their future plans too and would be leaving in the days and weeks ahead. 

Those like Harry, Liam, Niall and others achieving the passage into next quarter's graduates had only to focus on their life goals and the studies that would take them there. They'd be doing less menial chores. Less focus on their counseling for the issues that brought them to the program. More of the energy would focus on forgiving themselves, putting the past behind and building a future.

Harry considered recounting for Louis who among them fell where in the news which was cause for this celebration but he didn't know how to tell Louis aboutt himself. Looking at this pixie who was stariting to eat food off his plate with his fingers made Harry's desire to break the news completely wane and fade away. He only wanted Louis in his tomorrows. 

Fear of telling Louis derailed Harry's thoughts. With his dilemma over hiding the night's announcement as he wondered out loud the question he'd pondered countless times. A question of why Louis, who could be so sweet in private, was at a program for people like Harry. "Louis.."

Harry swept Louis away from the table side because more boys had come along side them to dish up seconds of food. 

"Louis, why were you sent to Bar 3. You've never said."

Louis allowed himself to be directed to a log to sit as Harry moved them to a place along the series of logs that was more private. Harry sought space between them and the crowd of others. The two counsellors were no longer aruguing. Around them everyone seemed happily engaged and celebrating. 

Harry felt nervous For asking. Louis was looking at his plate like it held answers. It seemed like time stood still. 

Then Louis smiled. It was warm, unaffected and freeing to see. 

"I was caught operating an international cat-napping ring."

"What?"

Harry was uncertain he heard. Or maybe he didn't understand. "You, what? What did you say?"

Louis was using his fork and causally eating. He answered with his intonation emphasizing this reply was an ordinary kind of thing. "Cat-napping. I said cat-napping. I-n-t-e-r-n-a-t-i-o-n-a-l-y."

Harry heard it alright. "What the? I'm sorry. I don't know what you mean. Catnapping? A catnapping ring? Napping? What does taking naps...I'm confused. What do you mean?"

"I mean my organization stole people's cats and held them ransom. Cat-napping. You know. Like kid napping. Globally though. We only took wealthy cats."

Harry was shaking his head. That was the most outrageously, unbelievable, ridiculous thing he'd every heard. He was going to ask again but then the sound of Naill in hyepsteics made them both look to where Niall, Liam and Zayn stood. They each had deserts on their plates and looked to be coming to join Harry and Louis. From Niall's laughter and the smiles on the other two's faces it was clear they all had heard this. Liam was echoing "yeah, only took wealthy cats". Liam elbowed Zayn and winked.

It was clear that, with exception of Harry, this was all so funny. By this time Harry was completely forgetting to say anything more about himself or the others he was only wondering why the hell Louis was making up such a stupid story. He was about to press for an answer again when the other three sat and derailed the conversation in yet another distinctly different direction.

"Louis, it seems your cake offense got swept aside. That's two lucky calls for you in one week. And we heard you are with us for the roundup of strays tomorrow, so good job passing yourself off as not a complete pain in the arse that you are like we all know and love." Zayn said.

"I'm just naturally adorable Zee, who can resist me when I make my innocent face." 

Louis pulled a face as adorable as a puppy to emphasize his point. It surged their conversation into the subject at hand about the cattle drive. There were questions about the riding test, discussion of what each of their counsellors leveled as the expectations and conduct. Considerable comments when back to the subject of Louis' cake routine. It was agreed that had it been any of their counsellors that Louis had flipped off so brazenly like he did to Reggie that Louis would not be going out with them. 

For a second or two Harry thought about how Louis seemed uncanily aware of Reggie's personality. Like with a school teacher, all the counsellors had their quirks. There were those to push, those to respect, those to fear. Louis gave off the impression that he knew how to handle Reggie. That Reggie was the counselor for the four Australians made Harry wonder. Like the story about Louis' offense this Australian thing was a curiosity Harry had to suffer. 

Soon enough it had become fully dark. The clear sky was filled with stars. The atmosphere at the bonfire was becoming much too joyous and free for any hope of big questions. Harry knew for another night he'd have to leave concerning issues to rest; what brought Louis there. Louis and the Australians. 

Louis had finished his main course and went to have some deserts to include amoung others, the huckleberry cake. He was walking back to join his mates when Reggie bolted to his side and snatched the cake off Louis' plate. It was a sudden move but the manner of it was only shocking in that it was surprisingly fast in its execution. The intent was clearly meant as a joke. Cake in hand went in one big bite right into Reggie's mouth.

He could nearly talk but as he chewed he made the comment "mmm, good cake not for naughty boys like you I'm afraid."

Around these two those who looked on took it with cause for laughter. Naughty or not, something about Louis had this way.

***

Going to collect cattle required the five lads had to respect an early curfew. It was hard to leave the party. The fire had become gigantic. The stories and the jokes going around had become wildly entertaining. By the morning though the five of them all were glad they had to make it an earlier night. It was still dark when they were woken to dress, gather their things, get to the barns to saddle their horses.

With them they were taking a mule. This critter was to pack bed rolls, pop up tents, some food, cooking essentials for Satuday night. Liam was the first to the barn. The wranglers had the mule ready and Kyla was there to assist as well. Liam was soon joined by Niall. Niall looked so excited to go, and perhaps for that reason, his eyes looked unrested.

Harry drifted into the barn next. Louis came along soon after. Next to Niall his demeanor was the most palpable. As Harry came out leading his horse of choice, Jazz, he took note of what he saw in Louis. Harry sensed that despite a successful accomplishment in lessons and a passing of skills as measured by experienced wranglers that there was still some trepidation for Louis about the ride ahead. Given his last mountain adventure, who could blame him.

Harry tied Jazz and turned to Louis who was handed a lead rope by Kyla and told to go get Snowflake. Harry offered to help, silly for reasons that would not fool anyone because with Snowflake Louis would have no need of assist. 

At the door of Snowflake's stall was a chance for a whispered query amidst all the excitement and rush to get ready for. Big day ahead of the five. 

"Louis, you okay?" 

Louis looked down at the door latch hiding some slight blush of embarrassment or shame. "M'a little scared."

"You will be okay. It will be fun. Great fun. Will wouldn't ask us to do this if he thought you'd get in trouble."

Harry saw the others were all too busy tacking up horses to notice. He put a hand on the back of Louis' neck pulling Louis into him while he kissed Louis on the head enjoying the feeling of the soft hair against his cheek. Louis let out a breath. Held tension released. For a moment Louis pressed his head into Harry's chest before they both were compelled to pull apart knowing now was not the time. 

"Trust me. I won't let anything happen to you." Harry whispered. 

***

"Trust me. I won't let anything happen to you!" Harry called back. 

They were stopped on a trail that had gotten narrow and steep. Ahead of Harry was Will on his horse. Next in line was Niall. Then Harry and Louis. Behind Louis was Zayn. Last in their line of six horses and a pack mule was Liam. He was leading the pack mule and brought up the rear. 

This was an arrangement that put the weakest link among them where he would be the safest. In the middle. But when the hours of climbing the mountain reached a place in the trail where the slope was steep, open and narrow the fear got the better of Louis despite the best efforts. He wanted off. 

Never mind that the slope of rocks to the left side of them that was extending to the sky above them from horseback view, at a sixty degree pitch. It was only matched by the near complete drop off to their right side. How far down it was off the drop to more flat ground was dizzying to look and assess. There was no way out of the narrow stretch they were stopped on except to continue on walking straight ahead. One by one. Single file. Also, never-mind that the trail looked like a narrow ledge barely as wide as their horses. It was actually an easy trail slowly meandering up at this point, except for the sudden drop off to the right and certain death if you were to slip.

For Louis, it appeared like any misstep by his horse and he would fall. So without reason he stopped. Pulling Snowfake to a halt Louis froze. Zayn asking why the stop made the others ahead of Louis look back to see his panic striken crumble into fear.

Louis studdered when he spoke like he did on the night of the horrible storm. "Wan-n-n-nof..." 

Harry was turned in his saddle as much as he could. The refining conditions of the trail made any chance for a dismount impossible. Looking back at Louis who was coated in a sheen of nervous sweat Harry assured him again. 

"Louis, Louis, look at me. Look at me."

Louis was shaking and looking down. Harry could see it caused him a dizzying effect. To look down off a cliff edge trail was to create vertigo. Unbalance of the mind in this case because of the illusion of being on a horse on a height along a narrow passage made sense of vertigo worse.

"No, Louis!" Harry said frightened byLouis fears truck paralysis. "Look at me. Just me. Come to me. Com on, come, keep moving."

The words were calm, firm and soft. It worked because the second Louis looked to Harry's mossy green calmness for strength he loosen the reins and Snowfake stepped forward. She was a smart little thing. She knew to walk on. 

"Good, Louis, good. Keep looking at me, come on. Look at me."

Louis didn't know he was letting the reins slip more. The little white horse with years of experience and a kind gentle soul was taking care of him. He only looked into Harry's eyes. Heard Harry's voice. As Snowfake took small steps the other horses and mule followed along patiently At the pace she established, one well-placed hoof at a time.

The moment all their horses cleared the 100 foot passage along the cliff it was Harry who baled off his mount first. He ran to Louis. Pulling Louis off the tiny mare Harry wrapped him in a hug. It was a good choice too because he felt the strain the fear made on Louis' body because Louis came off his horse into Harry's comforting arms like a rag doll nearly limp from the fear.

All the other riders made their way to a nice spot up a few feet and stepping off the official trail. This was the tradition on mountain trails. Pull off so any surprise traffic coming by could use the trail. Those resting or dismounted took a position to the side of the trail. 

They had been riding for hours and this seemed a good spot to take a break and let their legs have a stretch.

*** 

The rest was not long. Once they were mounted again it seemed all the worse of the trail was miles away because while they were high up in the mountains they were now passing through lightly forested shades groves and open meadows. The slope was easy. The horses seemed at relaxed. Along the way Will paused only to mention that they came up the way they did because they were least likely to find the cows along that trail it he only need to be sure. 

Why then did they go that way when it took them along such a steep slope? 

Always one with a reason, Will replied, "because the cows we're looking for have endless places to hide. Better to go up the steepest route and eliminate that first while we're fresh and not pressed for time than to lolligag up an easy ride, and find ourselves overmatched trying to drive the cows back down the mountain along the most unforgiving trail." 

Harry could see the logic to Will's approach. He also saw the way Louis looked to be processing that idea. Will gave Louis a reassuring kind of wink. Harry let the little white horse Louis was riding go in front of his as did Niall so Louis could ride close to Will. Harry drifted back in the line letting Zayn pass too so he was second to last, positioned riding right in front of Liam. 

"Liam? You're well schooled in these cowboy ways most would say", Harry's paused was coinciding with Liam's nod of agreement. "Would you say Will acts just a little like this is all one big trail ride more that a search for stray cattle? I mean he seems kind of not too concerned about looking for cows. Wouldn't you say?" 

Liam smiled. It was a smile that communicated many things. The rightness of Harry's theory. The pleased feeling Liam got from Harry's acknowledgment of how it was Liam who was the most senior apart from Will in these matters of cowboy stuff. It was a smile that said the how the four of them were different than they way they used to be. They were a band of brothers. They were more than that too. All since Louis. 

"Honestly Harry? Honestly, as much as Will knows about his world, including his cows, his old cows, I thin that while he might have sold them but they seem pretty stuck to what they know. A bill of sale isn't something a cow can read. So honestly, I think he could whistle and most those cows would come right to home to him. He doesn't need us. We're just along for a ride. He seems to like the company." 

Harry looked up the line to see where Liam's eyes were looking. Up ahead Will and Louis were talking as they rode. Louis faced away so his reactions couldn't be seen. But Will, the old man who still loved his long passed partner, was happy and animated. Harry knew Liam was right. Louis reminded Will of what he had had. What he loved. What he lost. 

Harry understood at the effects of Louis even on those with whom his relationship was not sexxual like Harry's. On everyone around him Louis was like sunshine. 

But then Harry came to a stop.

The trail had meandered up and when they cleared a group of trees he took in a sight that had the other four ahead of he and Liam stopped. It was a lake at the top of the mountain. Well not quite. But it was a lake as close to the top as one could be. 

Very much looking like a classic collapsed cauldera the lake seemed to rest at the bottom of a cone shaped rock formation. One side this natural wall shot up with rocky majestic towers reaching to the clouds and the crystal blue sky. The other side, this one where they entered, this pristine heaven was flatten like a side of a cone had weathered away. It was relatively flat and rimmed with trees. 

Looking around it was like being on top of the earth. While one side was a rocky barrier, the other allowed for a panoramic view. Mountains around them were visible, even tip hose hundreds of miles away. Harry wasn't certain, but when he looked over at the towering rocks on one side he thought he saw bighorn. Taking in a view of the lake he could see insects bussing its waters and in their activity they brought some ripples to the water, signs of trout having an insect feast in this short season that was summer at this elevation. Harry was curious how the trout survived this lake. Surley in the winter it was frozen. The thought passed as he took in more of the beauty around them. 

They rode on a bit farther and Harry noticed things more small on scale about geologic structure. The lake had several large boulders in it lying there as if cast out by giants. It was then as they came to a place Will seem to be suggesting they take a dismount that he realized. One of the boulders was familiar. 

It was like something in another life or a dream. He got of his horse and looked at his surroundings again with more detail. What appeared to be a solid forest on the one side had an opening. It exposed a lush meadow. The effect of lake and trees boarderling the meadow created a natural looking perimeter with a self contained grazing area. There in the tall grass, content, Will set the agenda. He got off his horse, pulled off all the gear and just let his gelding go free. 

Problem of the missing cows seemed insignificant to Will at this point. 

Confused, Harry looked at his watch. They had to be back to the BaR3 ranch the next day by dark if they were lucky enough to find the cows easily so what was Will thinking? How much precious time in this paradise would they have? 

Harry's watch read twelve o'clock. It was noon. They had left as the sun just rose yet the cows they only had that Saturday and all of the next day. Now the sun was straight over head and it was hot. In the arid climate, even at this elevation the temperature felt scorching. 

"Will? Um shouldn't we be searching, um for the cows? It's only noon?" 

"Cows? My old cows, Harry? Sold now to a new owner. Nevertheless they hold to their routine. We'll find them easy enough. Wouldn't you like to get camp set and have a little fun?" 

Harry was struggling with the idea that Will was taking this with so little concern for the assignment at hand. Around him the others were dismounted, even Liam, mr.steady, the one known for executing very ranch routine with precision and professionalism to the job. 

Harry was just thinking to question further when he heard it. Voices hooped and there was a splash. Harry turned to see Louis had left his horse to the others and immediately took to the water.

He'd gone under wearing all his clothes except his boots apparently. When he came up his words said something about the lake that hadn't occurred to him when he jumped into get relief from the heat, "F-f-fook! This is cold!"


	37. The Lake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry learns the destination is indeed the lake from Will and Francie's past. Inspiration for this is a combination of Lilo sparing on stage in 2015 and the Louis' nipple twisting kink evidence from real Louis.

Liam was quick to yell out to Louis. He was standing closest to the lake. The scorching arid heat made the idea of a dip in the lake was enticing. Niall was in agreement which he indicated by stripping off his shirt. Niall had a silly smile on his face that said any crazy thing Louis did was irresistibly contagious. Zayn, in contrast, was looking quite unconvinced. 

Zayn quickly snatched the reins of Snowball's bridle which Will had picked up when Louis abandoned her impulsively and said, "Guess I'll take care of that wanker's horse." 

Will seemed moderately surprised by Zayn's reaction. Duty first, over fun? Zayn modeled his behavior off Will's. He took the reins from Niall and Liam's horses too, mumbled something about "water", and turned four horses leading them with two sets of reins in each hand toward a grassy patch to care for them. 

Harry stood lakeside as if spellbound. He watched as Liam, once so uptight, once so afraid of anything loose, free, homophobic, proceeded to strip down to butt naked. Before Niall was half-undressed Liam was already in the water and swimming towards Louis and the giant rock with ease. This transformation in Liam astounded Harry as much as Liam's althleticism. 

Niall was a changed person too. Once self-defeating and insecure, Niall was reinvented into what seemed should always have been his character if hadn't been fighting with the problem of his homosexual identity. Now Niall was easy with a laugh, sweet and uncomplicated. He followed Liam with a shout like a Viking coming of age on his first adolecscent ice-water plunge as he dove in. His words largely uninterpretable were something about how insane this was. 

Finally it dawned on Harry that only he and Zayn remained on shore with Will. Zayn was still mumbling about the water as he took to the careful untacking of the horses. When Harry stopped watching the three who were splashing about it was only then that he realized Zayn had taken the horses off away from the lake's edge. 

Zayn and Will had finished removing the horse's tack, given them a quick curry to remove crusted sweat from their backs and girths. Harry joined realizing he should have joined them in this from the start had he not been caught up in Louis' spontaneous playfulness. Unlike Zayn, however, when Harry did help at last he kept looking longingly to the water despite the obligation he felt to the job. 

It was a job that surprised Harry how Liam so easily abandoned it but there was this new, transformed Liam. 

Liam the once stoic, serious, loner-type, he was now completely liberated. Playing naked alongside his mates in nature's water park, Liam was completely unconcerned about appearances and expectations. Harry watched as Liam was trying to scale a large boulder that Louis had claimed as his perch. 

Watching this made Harry very mindful of how it was Louis who made Liam this way. As Harry took care to finish with the horses he smiled about that. He was watching when Niall caught up to Liam as the base of Louis' rocky thrown. Niall boldly attacked Liam in the water and struggled to pull him under...Niall...the same guy who was formerly too shy and too uncertain even though from day one he'd held a huge crush for Liam. Now that shy boy was bold and free too. Louis made Niall that way the same as he freed Liam from his phobias. 

They were different the four of them! Different than they all had been. Liam, Niall, Zayn and even Harry himself. Something about Louis. He was the catalyst. 

Will explained to Zayn something that interrupted Harry's daydreaming thoughts. They should keep two horses tied at any time and leave the others free to graze. They would rotate which horses were tied. "This way the horses would be inclined not to wander too far. Although," Will added, "don't think that my gelding or this little white fluff ball Louis is riding are likely to run off anywhere to be honest. Both prefer the security of staying close to the people they know. Not the adventurous types. I remember Snowball as a baby. Always she was this way." 

Harry was surprised anyone knew how old the little white unicorn was. News of this peaked his interest. 

Will looked out to the lake when he finished his instructions. Zayn was oblivious to the others, busy pulling saddles and not watching them with any interest. Will looked to study where Louis was playing with Liam and Niall. Louis was so loud and full of life. A small smile was evident on the old man's face despite his efforts to remain business-like. 

"We are all born a certain way." Will added like an afterthought referring to what he observed as he let himself smile fully. Louis was taking off his wet clothes atop the big rock when Will looked to Harry. 

With his golden skin revealed Louis stood out like some Adonis bathed in the rays of the hot sun and exposed for all to see. Harry smiled at the way Louis' body was just a little different than most lads. Curvier, more sinful. Harry recognized this place, the background or contrast it provided to Louis' body. The mountains were hard and Louis was soft. The cliffs in the background were angular, so too were the details of Louis' jawline and cheekbones. For certain, though Harry had never been here, the instant he saw it, he knew it. This was the place in the photographs. A special place visited by Will and Francie as young men. A place they shared many special times together. 

Zayn had finished with the horses. With that done he turned to take the packs off the mule. This left Harry and Will a moment of privacy. For Harry there were questions. 

"So Will, this ah, this um. This is the place. Isn't it?" 

They both stopped what they were doing and looked out at the lake again before Will could answer. So much beauty surrounded them. To one direction was a vista of mountains so far off and so tall and rugged. In another direction a lake laid out before them and on its far end was a wall of rock shooting up creating a majestic barrier that climbed to the sky. In the lake a few boulders jutted out disrupting the pristine looking clear mountain water. As Harry surveyed all of this he could pick out every backdrop for every photo that littered the main room of Will's cabin. Each one a photograph of Francie. 

A haunting feeling crept into Harry though. Louis had been first to climb out of the water onto one of the giant boulders. Standing naked on it and taunting his two friends in the water below he was so full of life. It was like some game of king of the mountain as he forbid them to join him under threats of pushing them off from his high-ground point. He looked like Francie, Harry decided. Yes, taking a glance to see Will's reaction, Harry knew this to be the case. 

Will's voice answered Harry's query a bit softer and raspier than normal but reassuring. It was as if Will had indeed seen this all before. Harry could tell that this was an emotional journey. Will watching Louis was like confronting Francie as a ghost. And so a haunting feeling crept into Harry's heart. 

Harry looked back out to the boulder in the water. Liam had twice made it up the rock but before he could stand Louis pushed him back and off the rock. He was making his third move with Niall invading too from another direction so it looked like the invaders might have Louis at last. 

"Yes, Prince Harold. This is the place. And when Francie was alive he'd do exactly the same. He'd take the high ground and defend it from all invaders." 

Will turned away like the moment was a bit to real. He went to where Zayn was and told Zayn to hobble the mule and then he should join the others for a swim while the day was so hot. 

Zayn snorted. It was a laugh uncharacteristic of Zayn. Always known for being cool, this seemed off. He reached into his pocket for some cigarettes. Nervously he took them out, put one between his lips and lit it. 

It was a hard look Zayn leveled at Will. Like he expected some challenge for smoking. Harry had a momentary thought to intervene. But then Will took a step back and sat on a log that was not too far removed from the lake's edge. He reached into his leather vest and pulled out a cigar. He lit it and took the first several puffs just watching Zayn before he returned to watching the three playing in the lake. 

It was only after several minutes of smoking in silence that Will said without spending a glance on Zayn who seemed puffing away with what was still a nervous expectation of conflict, "Afraid of water I take it then?" 

Zayn looked surprised. 

"Well if it isn't that, just a little afraid of the cold you can do like your friend here is going to do and look over at where that left most drizzle of wate is across the lake there. You see if you can tolerate the cold and swim to where the base of the cliff is there, right below that tiny waterfall it's actually warm." 

Will stopped his pointing out directions and had a few more puff from his cigar. He continued on as he saw Harry move up closer to get a handle on what Will was telling them. Zayn for his part was still looking at the beautiful clear lake like it was a blackened well leading to the abys of hell. 

"You see this region is full of geothermal activity. This lake, high as it is, never freezes over there near that waterfall even in winter. There's a subterranean vent that feeds in hot water near the base of the waterfall. A shallow pool over there is like the best hot tub a person could ever imagine. You just have to have the balls to swim over to it." Will said as he smoked. 

The calm, reassuring approach that Harry knew well from his and Louis weekend at Will's got the better of Zayn. He made his way closer to Will. Seeing that Will wasn't looking at him for any sign of challenge the tension that had been permeating Zayn eroded. His entire demeanor softened. 

"I am afraid of water. I mean. I. I don't. Don't swim." Zayn ended the subject with that because the one thing that was certain about Will was that he wasn't someone who needed to put everyone's hang ups to a test. Both put men out their smokes and as Harry looked to have interest in taking to the water. Will suggested to Zayn that he help set up their camp if he was not going to swim.. 

Harry took this as an opportunity to guilt free sit by the edge of that water and pull of his boots off as he begun to undress. 

Zayn and Will seemed content to lay out the items from the packs taken off the mule for making camp. Harry was just about to jump into the water on his own accord when he heard Liam yelp. 

"Tommo you little wanker!" Liam shouted. 

It was clear that Liam had made it up to stand on the boulder when Louis was distracted pushing Niall off. From appearances with the way Liam was restraining Louis by the wrists there must have been something Louis had done to infuriate Liam. Harry guessed it was something like maybe Louis twisted one of Liam's nipples because he was notorious for doing that. 

The two were struggling on the towering rock. While Liam was angered, it was seemingly just in play. Niall was scrambling up at last having been the last pushed off and Harry watched unconcerned. The two invaders seemed bent upon taking Louis together like to heave him from his tower. Louis struggled to break free from Liam when Niall closed in beside him and Louis looked to nip Niall on his neck having only his teeth available for defense. 

Niall yelped. Liam let go to take his hands to check, comfort, his boy. Then they both turned. 

Clearly Louis was being faced with two united as one in a front against him. 

"Never give to defeat!" Louis shouted. He turned and dove from the rock before he could be unceremoniously dethroned. 

It was all laughter at his sass, his determination, his feriocity at first. 

But then as two surveyed from the rock and three from the shore there was no surfacing of Louis from his dive into the water. Laughter waned. Eyes scanned. 

Panic set in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year! Hope this gives a happy relief from all the real 1D drama. Too many fans are really giving themselves fits of worry. 
> 
> There is a lot of stuff to work back into the next update so it will have story details woven in from chapters' passed. I'm careful to not get too excited because I tend to rush then. Happy new year again, Xo Typos


	38. The hot pool

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it's James Corden with Louis as his kitten that is the inspiration here. Don't know how that man could tuck Louis' tight little body on to his lap, pet Louis' chest without abandoning his straightness, just once, but okay. James is my inspiration.

Harry was first in the water.

But no.

Wait. He was mistaken. 

It Zayn was who was first in. Harrry realized this when he came up to surface after a running jump, a surface skimming dive and a powerful attempt to swim his fastest. Once the water cleared his face as he surfaced he oriented to swim toward the huge rock where Louis was last seen but there was Zayn wading out ahead of him the water around the shore being yet still shallow enough to do so. 

Both Liam and Niall conveyed actue panic, searching from their perch, diving in like they saw Louis yet each of them coming back to surface unsuccessful. Each was taking a turn alternating diving down to search th depths once the other came up.

Harry had looked around to ask Will if their were rocks, perils in the water, something that could have put Louis in danger. Not seeing Will Harry abandoned that prospect and swam on. 

A short distance swim out he caught up to Zayn. Zayn who had miraculously over come fear of water enough to make a plunge to save a friend. But Zayn had only made it to a distance about waist deep. Once there he was shut down paralyzed by his phobia. He took to a rock that was jutting out of the water. Zayn had climbed up on it sat there. He looked like a raptor perched on a roadside post. 

Zayn was looking with moves that were eratic. Lik he was disoriented. His posture even from a distance suggested he bore an expression like he was overwhelmed by fear. Fear of the water and fear for Louis. Off in the distance Liam and Niall were continuing to search; diving, screaming like Louis was lost.

Harry only stopped by Zayn to make sure he wasn't also in peril. Zayn's face was ashen white from fear. Th look of him told Harry everything. Zayn's hands gripped the rock which was only just big enough for him. Kneeling on it and gripping he was fixed in a stare at the water all around him. He looked down at it like it was his death. He panted his answer to Harry query about whether he was okay. Both his breath and his speech was choppy from his duress. 

"Y-Yeah (pant), yeah (pant) water...so much (pant). Got to find Louis Harry (pant). Go!"

Harry swam away. He swam hard and fast. Reaching the giant boulder he went to its far side where Niall and Liam were.

The two looked exhausted and devastated. Harry met them and all that was exchanged was this wordless shaking "no" of their heads. In the water with them all wet from the exertion distinguishing what was wet from tears commencing was hard to separate from just being drenched. But then the expressions they shared were like a vacuum was sucking all hope from all of them. 

Then they heard it. 

Louis voice. 

He sounded far away. At first they might have all thought it was a memory of his voice. Then the realized it was him calling them names, calling them out to chastise them and taunt them from afar. 

Turning in the water they spotted Louis. He was on the far side of the lake near the waterfall that Will had pointed out to Harry. He was dancing around in shallow water and baiting them with challenges and jabs they could barely hear from across the lake. He was quite alive and well. 

Liam and Niall looked at each other than to Harry. Harry looked at them and made a seething expression on his face to express his feelings. 

Liam said, aware they had been played, "I'm going to wrap my hands around his pretty neck and drown him!" 

"Not if I get him first!" Harry said. 

They all swam fast and hard to reach Louis' position first. Even Niall competed. 

Harry reached the far side ahead of Liam. His determination was part desire to literally punish Louis for the fear he created and part desire to throw Louis on the bank of the lake and make love him right there like he couldn't bear to ever loose him again.

Before Harry reached the much shallower water he already could feel the warmness of the water in which Louis was waiting. There Louis stood still shouting out his taunts.

Harry came up from the deeper, cold water like its lord, a Poseidon. His green eyes normally so pale, mossy where darker than the deepest forest because his pupils expanded with his desire to be taking.

Taking this forest sprite, the maker of mischief, this, this...this creature who perplexed him in seemingly a thousand different ways. Taking him to punish him? Or something else. 

Liam met the warming boundary of waters with Niall coming along shortly after him. Both stopped without moving on because of need to catch their breath and because of the nature of the scene before them.

Harry had met this miscrant, this harbinger of mischief and was "dealing" with him. 

Their bodies were pressed together. Harry's stature tall and straight was complimented by Louis' smaller and curvier one. They had their arms wrapped around each other. Louis' arms were around Harry's waist with his hands extending up to grip fingernails into Harry's back. Harry had one hand cradling Louis' jaw as they were kissing and the other was groping Louis' bum. 

Liam and Niall stood there for a minute. Their hearts were trying to recover from the panic Louis had filled them with. Slowly their minds made a decision. They exchanged a brief glance between them at Harry's failed state then Liam spoke.

"So this is what you call giving it to him for causing us all to nearly expire from the fear he was dead at the bottom of the lake?"

This broke Harry and Louis' embrace. Louis was quick to say in a sassy, condescending tone one syllable. "Aw..."

What was going to come next, who knew. From his expression alone as he uttered the syllable it was clear he was going to make fun of their sheer panic. So Harry recalled his promise.

Spinning Louis to turn him around Harry stepped back putting himself seated on a rock about chair height and pulled Louis down across his lap. Bum up, face down Harry slapped Louis' arse hard. No delay followed the "Yelp!" from Louis because Louis laughed once the sting passed. Harry laid on several more spanks across Louis' bum while taking comfort from the encouragement the verbal applaud from the other two lads. 

Only when Harry could tell that spanking of red cheeks repeatedly must have gotten truly painful did he back off. It wasn't immediate, but Louis' transformation from chiding for "more please" which met the first few slaps, to silence gave Harry the idea that he had literally hit his mark of punishing Louis. 

He rolled Louis over and pulled him up to sitting in his lap. Louis' face winched from pain with the repositioning. He let out a minor whimpering noise and turned his face to bury it tucked in against Harry's wet hair and neck. Seated like this they cuddled together, Harry holding smaller Louis in his lap, arms threaded around each other, heads pressing together.

"Seriously Louis. Do you have any idea what a fright you gave us? That wasn't funny. Don't ever disappear like that you wan..."

Louis silenced Harry with a kiss. Whether it was the sincerity to Harry's tone or the painful reminder of his bum, Louis conveyed his understanding of Harry's point with his kiss. 

Niall and Liam were once again facing feeling out of place by a private display. Niall felt extremely awkward because while he was totally comfortable (now) with his sexuality, seeing Harry and Louis like this, was embarrassing. Both were sporting stiff erections telling of their arousal. This intimacy between them seemed so deep that it should be theirs alone in private. 

Liam didn't give a second thought about the striking appareance of Harry holding his lover in his lap while displaying an impressively hard dick. Afterall he'd seen Harry's cock too so many times before. What stuck him was the emotions conveyed between Harry and Louis. Harry's were so raw, so intense and so real. Sure it was of novel interest to see what Louis had, package wise, given that Liam had learned that all his pleasures with his two lovers was inspired by, coached by, Louis who was some sort of slutty-Cupid. But as pretty as Louis was, seated like a kitten purring in Harry's lap, the emotion Louis had drawn from Harry was what gripped Liam's interest in their display. How could Liam have missed for so many months the need Harry had in his core to let a loving person he hid deep inside himself out? Lou's had tapped into this from the very beginning like it was transparently obvious. 

Liam felt ashamed. He and Niall finally began to shead off their temporary paralysis. They each smiled at each other over the two lads kissing before them. Then it occurred to them as they felt stirred to do the same. They were forgetting someone, it dawned on them simultaneously. 

"Zayn!" They both exclaimed.

They had all been in such a mess about Louis that they left Zayn. Looking back across the lake they saw Zayn was still sitting there on his tiny perch looking like someone lost at sea. Liam and Niall turned to swim back over to him with a mention of their intent to the oblivious, interlocked Harry and Louis. 

"We're going to get Zayn off that rock where he is stranded."

"Yeah, give you two a chance to come up for air or get a room someplace."

***

 

Zayn was not having it when Liam and Niall swam to him and wanted to take him with them back across the lake to the thermal pool. 

"No! N-n-no...gonna stay here!"

Zayn's teeth were chattering as he screamed his lack of acceptance to their offer. It may have been his wet clothes that were making him cold but it seemed pretty clear once he saw Louis was okay and realized that he was surrounded by waist-deep water the relative danger to himself overwhelmed him.

Niall and Liam tried talking him down from the rock. Soothing and calm in their approach they had no effect. Touching him like to help him back to the much closer shore from which they all entered the lake, had a greater effect of increasing his terror. 

Finally in response to all suggestions and prompts Zayn blurted out, "Just go! I'll stay here. Not going to get into the water. E-v-e-r!"

Shut out from assisting, the two decided to swim back over to the hot pool. They found Harry and Louis there no longer on the rock but still cuddled together with Louis more or less in Harry's lap but now submerged in water deep enough to cover their bodies up to their chests. 

Entering this natural hot tub it felt amazing to Liam and Niall. After the exertion of searching for Louis waned the coldness of the lake had begun to have its effects.

"What's going on with Zayn?" Harry asked as he petted his kitten who seemed tamed in a position still snugged into Harry.

"He's scared to death. Told us to go."

"Says he's never going to get into the water. E-v-e-r."

Louis sounded particularly soft in his contribution to the conversation. It was a tone his voice adopted that was insanely submissive and sweet. Niall had heard it before. It was the way Louis was following a good deal of dicking. However it was not plausible that in the short time they were witn Zayn that their erections had been serviced. In fact it was clear by their heat-diminished-semis that it was just the hot water cuddle that was making Louis malleable and soft. 

"He can't stay there forever." Louis said. "Why didn't you just pull him into the water?"

"Couldn't, he looks terrified. Never seen Zayn anything but cool, well, except for when he's..."

"Right." Louis said. 

He sat up more and looked resigned. Not thrilled, but resigned. "I got this. It me fault he's out there. You stay here and I will go get him over to the shore."

Louis stood and the water where the four were soaking was about thigh deep so when he turned to go back out into the cold lake water it was a perfect look at his perfect arse. 

It was so round and full. And it still had strike-reddened coloring from the spanks which clearly the hot water had sustained. As if Louis was aware that all eyes were on his bum he remarked before making a plunge into the colder water, "yeah, I know, me bum looks like one of those baboons, yeah?"

The three laughed. Louis dove out to make a fast transition form heat to icy cold. He swam an extensive distance taking use of all his breath under water for some measure of the way. Three watched.

"I dint know he was such a strong swimmer, did you?" Liam said.

They saw Louis surface and he swam confidently and technically toward Zayn. 

"No. Not a clue." Harry said. The ongoing ignorance about Louis made Harry get that pang he got about the not knowing. "I really don't think I know a thing about him actually. He's been here for how long, yet all I really know is how much he likes sex. I mean really, really, really likes sex!"

Niall snorted a "Yeah really, really, really." He caught himself drawling attention over with his emphatic agreement. He hoped his blushing over Louis and sex with him was mistaken as blushing from the heat of the water. 

Luckily the thing of interest, Louis going to rescue Zayn, drew all their attention back across the water. 

They saw Zayn resolutely perched and Louis moving around the rock Zayn was on. They were conversing. It looked like Louis was having no more luck. Louis swam away going over to his giant boulder. He scaled it and retrieved his clothes. Then he swam back to Zayn. Circled the rock as there was more conversing. Conversing as clearly it was not becoming convincing. 

The three observers shifted abound in the water. After some time like any hot tub their thermal pool became uncomfortably hot. It was easy to shift to a perfect mix where it was less hot. So they did and resumed watching Louis and Zayn.

"He's going to need help. Zayn isn't coming off that rock by anything other than force." Liam said.

"Louis has to be frozen now. He's moving around to stay warm but you're right he will freeze in the open lake before Zayn yields. It's going to take force." Niall agreed.  


They were about to leave the comfort of the naturally hot water for aiding Zayn when they saw Will was back shoreside near the lake. His disappearance had been forgotten. There he was again and it was notable because he was on Zayn's horse. 

The big gelding, Styx the same one Zayn had risen on their last adventure to rescue Niall, was saddled again. Styx was also so big that when they saw Will direct him to step into the lake the solution to Zayn's plight was evident. Will was striding the gentle giant of a horse out to collect Zayn. Pluck him off the rock.

Sure enough the horse came to stand in water at Zayn's perch under Will's direction. The water was barely higher than the upper legs of the big gelding. Will extended a hand, Zayn took it and slipped onto Styx back behind Will and the two rode slowly back to shore. 

Harry laughed. "Will's sensible solutions never cease to amaze. Why didn't any of us think of that?"

The three shared the sentiment as they watched as Louis swam back to them. 

"Am I out of trouble now?" The shivering Louis asked as he came back to the private pool.

"We're glad to be warm and free from the consequence of unsettling Zayn. So you're off the hook this time Tommo, but don't be such a twat, okay?" Liam said.

"M'too cold to be anything. No more pranks. Promise."

"What about secrets?" Harry said timed with taking Louis and pulling him close again like his own body was the better source of warmth than the geothermal water for restoring his boy. "Why don't you tell us why you came to this program Louis? It's always a question. People talk about themselves and yet no one seems to know your story. It's clearly not the cat-napping thing. That's ridiculous."

"Oh look, Zayn's ashore. And look at that, it looks like Will's getting a fire going on the bank." Niall interrupted. 

The comment diverted Harry's question which was incredibly frustrating and poorly timed. Instead of responding to Harry's question Louis looked with interest to the far off shore. 

"Oh yeah, how nice. Zayn is frozen. And my clothes were still soaked. Will said he get them dry. And he also said when he rode out to where me and Zayn were to tell you that we had to watch the sun. He doesn't want us waiting to come back after the sun drops below the mountains. He says it will get really cold fast once the sun isn't overhead."

Distractions were effective. Once again a moment passed for getting the answer. Why was Louis at Bar 3?


	39. Never Enough***

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the last chapter the lads were high up in the mountains with Will to "retrieve" former cattle of his that he believed he needed their "help" to return to their new owners. Instead of cattle the boys find Will has led them to a favorite spot and was none too concerned about the strays. Play begins. 
> 
> Louis immediately engages in a game of king of the hill on the largest of many bolders in the alpine lake which draws all of them into a prank as he fakes an accident. They attempt a rescue. Zayn has a panic attack over being in open water and has to be recovered from the water by Will because Zayn doesn't swim. Meanwhile other four go to the far side of the lake exploring a waterfall where they enjoy a natural thermal pool.
> 
> The following segment picks up with what unfolds as the hours slip away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter weaves parallels of lovers-past with lovers-present. It is my way of expressing hope; hope that we have a changing view for tolerance in this world. More optimism and more respect. 
> 
> On that subject...the recent events in the public/celeb interface has been quite sad. This story is a very much Larry romance but it should be restated that this writer doesn't really know s h i t about the real persons on which the characters are based. Having said that, there seems to have been nothing in the recent propaganda that suggest anything of the real Louis Tomlinson either.
> 
> Abandoned by his father, lovingly raised by his mother, his relationship to her being pro-family, same with his sisters, the way he has campaigned to the benefit of numerous charities for children, all of that sums up to what about him? It suggest a person quite committed to family. The absence of an upside from Louis' team with the latest press smacks of character assassination. Suggestion he should hook up with a person who also has her own family history, which is contrary to the nature of his, suggest a good many fabricated stories that could be more creative fiction than anything written by the fandom. It's hard for me to remind myself of the idea that the drama is not my business. 
> 
> At the end of the day this story is not supposed to be anything more than simply a happy place of fantasy for those who enjoy stories of its theme. It's not intended to disparage. So I'm going to keep on believing the-real-Louis will be okay. That he is loved and that he does love someone of true beauty and depth of quality as he deserves. I hope the fame seekers and fortune stealers will not prevail. In the mean time I'll borrow the little pieces of 1D we see and weave them into these tales. Hope you enjoy where this is going.
> 
> *** The next few updates will have a lot of lyrics from songs off the last two albums. Vocal parts in recording won't be strictly followed and some words will be modified to fit into the fiction. This chapter features Niall's Never Enough*** which I think has lyrics in the verse that fits to anyone brave enough to throw themselves into a threesome and lyrics in the chorus that fit into Fake-Louis' approach to Fake-Harry's reserved heart. ***

*** Never Enough. *** 

The gap between the sun and the mountain ridge waned. By the time the sun dropped low enough on the horizon to suggested it was late afternoon the four boys with prunish-looking skin reluctantly made a rapid swim. They abandoned thermal springs to cross the open water of the cold lake.

Although the day was still hot they came out of the water very much chilled because the core of the lake kept its frigid temperature year round. Fortunately there was a shoreside fire waiting for them. 

They collected their clothes and dressed beside the fire as they chatted with Zayn. Naturally comfortable being a loner Zayn seemed to be content smoking and tending the fire. Further away from the lake, where the ground had some flat and grassy spots were the tents laying waiting to be pitched but more or less placed for setting up. Further off under a large tree was a cook tent. Inside it was a collection of things that came off the mule. Clearly Will had laid all the supplies out. It appeared that the experienced old man had all the preparations for any contingency. 

A rope that was looped over a high branch of the grand tree shading the cook tent caught Niall's eye. He asked what the rope was for.

"Will said we have to hoist the food cache up at night because of bears." Zayn informed him.

"Wha? Bears?" Niall said with a jittery voice.

Liam sat down next to Zayn to study him. It was clear Liam needed to know the incident in the lake hadn't tarnished Zayn. 

"Don't worry Niall. He didn't say there are bears, he said there c o u l d be bears. So precautions." Zayn took a long drag on his cigarette and met Liam's scrutinizing inspection with a playful wink before he continued. "Precautions he said. Like don't take anything food or scented things into our tents. Like lube. No strawberry lube for you tonight Niall." 

Liam tried not to laugh. It was clear Zayn was having some fun at Niall's expense. Liam relaxed his concern for Zayn with this but not without moving closer to him all the same and putting a hand on Zayn's back offering Zayn a reassuring caress. 

"Wish you had been over there with us. It's spectacularly beautiful and the hot springs is incredible. So relaxing." 

"Prefer to stay out of the water, thank you very much. Should have know that idiot Louis was pranking us. Me and Will had a nice talk about our Louis. Seems Will has him figured out." 

"Who me?" Louis said. He made a playful gesture and put on a look of innocence. "No one has me figured out. I'm a mystery..." 

Louis was starting to go on when he noticed the way Harry, who was the slowest to get dressed seemed to be studying him. He stopped his narration and changed the subject off himself. 

"Where is Will?" 

"He took my horse and went to check around. Said he wanted to see what Styx is like to ride. He asked us to get the tents up." 

Liam was looking around to scan how the supplies were placed. Two tents were visible. He didn't see a third. He was about to ask when Zayn saw the puzzle on his face and supplied the answer. 

"Seems he wants to be a bit more private. He put his bedroll up the hill aways. If I didn't know better I'd say he's not expecting us to be doing much sleeping for some reason."

***

When Will came back the boys had made much progress to organize camp. To anyone who came across the site it could have appeared that this group was set for a week stay. Will had put much thought into their needs. Half a century of mountain packing experience had allowed him to neatly bring on one mule packs that were like Hermione's handbag; their list of contents seemed endless. Opening the stores of provisions Will had seemed to think of everything. There was even makings for s'mores, whiskey, and two jugs of home-brew. The group looked at the unmarked jugs and laughed knowing it was likely that a Will had made something powerful and to be sipped sparingly.

One of the jugs was passing around between the boys when Will arrived back to camp on Zayn's big horse Styx. 

In Will's classically, unconcerned, quiet manner he took note that the boys were sitting around the camp fire sipping his alcohol but he didn't call them out on it. He went about tending to Styx. Once the horse was tack-free, curried and dried out Will released him. He went over to a canvas-wrapped item he'd set aside earlier. It went unnoticed while he was unpacking and perhaps most of them were across the lake soaking in the hot pool. 

Alcohol had the lads paying Will no mind as he picked up the package, although Liam did glance over as did Harry, both wondering about Will's reason for riding off alone. Their mission of finding cows seem a likely possibility. Liam and Harry felt some heightened responsibility to their fellowship, each relating to Will more so than their carefree counterparts. Liam and Harry sharing this allegiance for their own particular reasons. For Liam it was his drive to honor the tradional cowboy way. For Harry it was the awareness that he and Louis were like reincarnations of Will and Francie although they were men of different time and place Harry was much like Will. 

That was why they were both prepared to ask about his solo ride when Will came to join them carrying the canvas wrapped item.

"Where did you go?" Liam asked.

Will took his time answering. He first found a log which provided a convenient seat and pulled it to were he seemed to like the view. Sitting down with the canvas wrapped item at his feet he took out a pipe from inside his vest and began packing it with tobacco to have a smoke.

"Over the hill there. Further along this trail a bit. You see once the path turns away from this lake it opens up into a wide meadow. Always has the best grass in the summer. Cows are there. Probably came up here as soon as they went missing. Been contently hiding there the whole time."

"What? Did you say the cows are there?" Harry asked not sure he'd heard correctly because of Will's puffing between words to get his pipe lit with a lighter Zayn tossed to him.

"Um, hum." Was all Will said as he enjoyed the first good drag off the pipe and tossed Zayn's lighter back to him with a nod of thanks.

"Did you expect they would be there? Like from the very beginning?"

Will nodded as he hummed an affirmative and quietly continued stoking his pipe.

"So we could have gotten up here early like we did, gathered them up and be half way back down the mountain by now with ease. Wouldn't have to spend two days even." Liam speculated aloud. 

"Yep," Will had a barely masked smile form as he confirmed Liam's calculation took another puff. He added, "but what fun would that be? This place is special to me. Thought it was time I share it with someone. Good times always come to those here. Don't really come up by myself anymore. Getting a little too old for that. So yep. Knew those cows would be up here. Just wanted some company." 

There was a dreamy quality to the way Will's words were spoken. A hidden history not said but it could be felt by those listening to the old man. Harry guessed he knew some of the history. Louis too. 

Will was looking out at the lake and Harry realized something. Earlier that day as Will watched them frolicking from the shore it must have been like looking into his own past. The old man probably saw Louis being Louis, and it was like reliving being here and seeing Francie. There was just some quality about Francie revealed in the old photos that struck the observer as Francie being so much like Louis. 

Harry let Will drift in his daydream for a minute because the way he looked out over the lake revealing his palpable longing for staying emerged in those memories. But then the curiosity got the better of Harry as he thought more about the pictures in Will's cabin. It was pre-selfie era. Harry wondered who took them. Unlike the war service time photos Harry couldn't imagine this lover's alpine retreat being a widely shared venue.

"Will? This is the place isn't it? You and um, Francie. This is where you liked to come, you have those pictures from here, aren't they? That giant rock, Louis was claiming today, it looks just like the one in the photograph of Francie. You're in the foregrounding the shore of a lake, he's on a huge rock and it's the same mountain in the background. And there's one of the two of you here on shore too. The scenery is the same. Who took those pictures?"

Harry noticed the way Will seemed to push the dirt around at his feet as he weighed his response. He took his time to answer. He shifted on his log seat uncomfortably. Then he extinguished his pipe and nodded like deciding something for himself.

"That would be a ranger. Forest service ranger. This was his district. He had also been a member of our... well, we served together in the war, the three of us. He was actually the same person who took most of the pictures from war that I have too. When we all came home when the war ended he decided to put his plans to work as a photographer for a big city paper aside and take a job here. He went to work for the local branch of the forest service. Me and Francie would come up here in the summer, checking on the herd. Enjoying the lake. He'd show up sometimes. The pattern of being with us, closeness of the war experiences, burned into him so that he didn't seem to let some things go."

The sun had been dropping in the sky. Although the day had been so very, very hot the mountain elevation made it so that as soon as the sun was blocked by mountains from warming their lakeside camp it was suddenly colder. Maybe it was just that, but they all felt a chill. The little fire Zayn had started earlier to create a bed of coals idea for cooking in a Dutch oven, seemed newly compellingly and comforting. Either the fire's warmth or a chill to Will's tone, something, drew them into tighter in a circle around the fire. 

The ominous feeling of foreboding that seemed impending with this story didn't shy Harry away from more probing. Will's demeanor, once blissfully steeped in pleasant memories seemed faded. This only made Harry need to know more.

"What kind of things couldn't he let go? Like war stuff?" Harry asked. 

"Yes. War stuff, some. We definitely saw a lot horrifying things that we never wanted to see again. In life or in dreams. War changes a person. Maybe it was because we all knew that, we all could understand the same things after the war like only other soldiers can. Maybe it was that more than that." 

"He wasn't from around here like me and Francie but he settled here following us instead of his dreams of big city paper work as a photographer. You see in the war it was Francie who saved him. Of the our platoon it was always Francie who looked after us. Francie was so fierce, protective. If anyone got in trouble he had their back. Several times Francie had spared Peter a certain death. So for him, Peter, it was habit. When we got back he followed us like a puppy. An obsessed puppy." 

"Eventually we tried to break him of that. Over the years we thought he'd move on. Yet if he knew we'd come up here he'd usually show up. Or he'd come around the ranch with the excuse of bringing us pictures. Or he'd just come to share some local gossip. He liked to hang with the local sherif deputies and after he'd come around when there were interesting crime stories. Tell us how the person should have committed the crime, especially murders. In time it became increasingly odd. I think that is how long ago I started my habit of shooting at strangers. Those folks at Bar 3 think I'm famous for it because of their work with boys like you, but truth is, I'm kinda amused by young people getting their wild oats out. You boys are pretty harmless. The real reason I started keeping a loaded shotgun on hand it was because of Peter's obsessions and his strange interests in crimes, crimes of passion. He just couldn't see not being around us. The two things added together. It never seemed safe."

Harry felt Louis slip a hand to reach behind his back. Was Louis telling him something? 

"Will," Harry said. He ignored that Louis pressed his hand now on Harry as if to say hush and asked. "What happened to Francie?"

Everyone was holding their breath. Harry looked around and saw it on their faces.

"It was Peter..."

The boys we're leaning well in to the fire circle. Will had only said the first three words when Louis jumped up and blurted out a question that derailed Will's reply.

"Fuck I'm hungry. Anyone else hungry? And cold, it's getting cold already up here? Anyone else cold?"

Everyone was looking at Louis with blank stares of disbelief. How could he rudely interupt at the climax of a story? Never mind their stares he stompted over deliberately in front of Will and continued to suppress the story. 

"Will what's in this canvas? Can't figure out because it's such a weird shape. What do you have n there?" Louis asked.

Louis was smiling at Will and the effect was like bathing sunshine. Louis added an adorable looking head-tilt to his question and Will's former frigid, darkened manner was chiseled away. Like he came out of ice from the coldness to the story. Will smiled back warmly at Louis and picked up the package. Losening the strings he pulled forth a ukulele and handed it to Louis who was standing, hovering around him like a pestering small child would do. 

"Didn't know if any of you boys like music. Thought maybe this might be fun to bring along."

Louis held the tiny instrument and giggled. He expressed the sentiment they all shared; no one would have fathomed Will brought a ukulele. Louis looked at Niall and offered it to him. "Don't you play guitar Niall. This seems like a leprechaun thing so you probably had ukulele class every year in leprechaun primary, right?"

Everyone was forgetting the foreboding story and laughing. Niall took the instrument looking curiously at it but with an eagerness. "No, Louis the leprechaun music classes feature harps. But I might give this a try."

Louis collapsed down to sit on the ground informally close to Niall as Niall immediately began to pluck at each string in turn trying to make sense of the instrument's status and need for tuning. 

The fact that Louis successfully disrailed the conversation was slowly sinking in on the other three boys. Will seemed teetering between saying more and letting it go when Louis cemented the subject was moot by casting a comment directed to Harry. 

"Harry I'm cold and hungry. Fetch me my jumper will you? Will, do you have plan about dinner? If we have the ingredients, I once made this chicken wrapped in parma ham stuffed with mozzarella and that can be cooked in a Dutch oven."

Harry looked at Louis with exasperation. Was it with the distractions? Why did Louis do that? They were all so deeply engrossed in Will's story as was Will in the telling of it. 

But then Louis was the king of distractions. An expert at jumping off any subject that had become serious. This proclivity nawed at Harry as he considered that he, all of them, still didn't know why Louis was at Bar 3. 

Harry was about to interupt the little song construction that Niall was starting to build off of what Louis was whispering to him as the two sat nearly on top of each other enthralled by the little toy-like instrument.

Pressing into their space Harry looked down to refute Louis' sending him off like a minion only to be caught in a web of Louis' beauty. The sun had lowered to where the sky was filling with the spectrum of light when colors took their most perfect and pleasing quality to the human eye. Bathed in this light Louis looked up to meet Harry's gaze which immediately wrecked all Harry's intentions. 

Louis' eyes sparkled with happiness over the melody that he and Niall were stringing together. His long, thick eyelashes batted away the light which shone down on him from an angle radiating from behind Harry. Louis skin was like dark honey, smooth and golden. It was seemingly luminescent as if it battled the radiance of the sun from its source within. 

His too thin, tee had a sloppy hemline so it revealed his neck and collarbones which attacked Harry at one of his greatest weaknesses; the constant challenge of bridling his urge to suck marks on Louis' skin.

Alas Harry found himself sighing his defeat. "Okay Louis. I'll get your jumper, but I brought an extra of mine too so if you need a proper wool one let me know".

Harry turned without noticing that Louis was quick to watch him walking away. Louis winked at Niall which was the only indication he was playing with Harry in some way. Niall laughed and wondered what was up. Louis, always in motion, always loud, was also always toying with someone.

Harry opened the pack that was Louis'. He sifted briefly and pulled out from anong the things a jumper. He recognized it immediacy but held it up to examin it to be certain. The jumper was one of Harry's own. How it came to be among Louis' possession when they had separate rooms and packed separately was a mystery. Or not. Maybe Louis had climbed into his room again, Harry thought. Once again it was no surprise. It was just so very Louis.

Harry turned and strode back to Louis and Niall. They were putting together a nice little melody that Niall played repeatedly as they were building from that base and adding more. Zayn had moved closer and was engaged composing the song too. Liam had stepped away from the fire with Will and the two of them were off at the cook tent breaking out the food to put together a meal.

Harry deliberately threw the jumper to hit Louis in the face.

"Seems that looks familiar some how. Not sure why." A smile couldn't be contained. Dimples cut deeper along Harry's face and he was proudly counting on their affect on Louis whose expression betrayed his lustful drinking in of Harry as he enjoyed the banter.

Louis pulled on the sweater and it seemed to swallow him. The sleeves extended down so long that only the tips of them were exposed. Everyone laughed at Louis, even Liam and Will who were pulling together to divide up making some simple camping fare that looked to have onion, garlic, ground beef, pepper and beans. The air carried aroma of cumin and coriander. It's seemed like chili was the entree déjour. Cornmeal mixed by Liam into something with egg suggested there would be cornbread too. It was clear that dinner was cowboy fare and Will was making it by memory, no recipe or fuss. 

As the two were busy making the meal they seemed happily sharing stories and laughing with each other. Harry decided to let them be. He sat by the three composers to enjoy the creation that was being constructed. 

Words and music strung together slowly. Eventually something real formed and it quickened. It was Niall who led off. As he broke into singing his lyrics his eyes flickered between the ukulele, Zayn and Liam still off a short distance cooking with Will.

"Wanna pull an all nighter  
And get into something we'll never forget  
Wanna stay up and party the weekend away  
And not know when to quit 

Wanna drive in the night to the end of the earth  
And go over the edge

Wanna wake up with you and say  
Baby lets do it all over again  
Lips so good I forget my name  
I swear I could give you everything"

Niall sang. 

Zayn was clearly appreciation the words. Maybe he was shifting because it was unsettling to have this so holding written in a sonnet. Or maybe he wanted to jump in. 

Harry too was drawn closer and looking like he was studying the tune and considering some additions.

It was Louis who came in to follow Niall. He looked Harry in the eyes and never wavered as he sang.

"I don't need my love you can take it  
You can take it and take it

I don't need my heart you can break it  
You can break it and break it

I just can't get too much of you baby

It's never enough, never enough  
Never enough, it's never enough  
Never enough."


	40. Wolves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is inspired by a mix of things. I'm missing amazing sound of Zayn (high note diva) and the admiration for the new 1D sound (still so beautiful) without him. It's also a reference back to "the early-years-Niall", the one who got scared kind of easily. Real-Niall was so adorable back then before he grew up and out of cute into more man-Niall. (He'll always be a little brother to me though.)  
> There is incrediable beauty in the world. Just like love, beauty comes in many forms. As songs by One Direction, are weaved into this story the hope is to share the idea that this is a work of fiction, only beauty described is real.

"Never enough!" Was echoed by Zayn who let loose with an amazing high note that lingered in the cathedral-like setting of the mountain. His final song literally rang off the mountain walls. 

The impact of this was surprise to all.

Will and Liam had just come to the fire to set the food on top of the coals for cooking. The sun had dipped further behind the mountains and the once clear blue sky developed a tinge of peach and pink where sky and horizon met. In this beauty the effect of Zayn's extended high note was a howled reply that drifted across the wilderness to their human ears. 

It was not a man-made sound. Most definitely not. All the boys had a shocked expression. They turned to Will.

"What was that!"

"Is that...wolves?"

Their faces showed a mix of excitement and trepidation. Five lads from the UK had never conceived of such a thing. Bears? Wolves?

Will laughed and with his consistent nonchantness he stoked the coals and positioned the Dutch oven to his liking giving no haste to answer. 

"Don't know. Maybe. Had to tell from that one short call. Could be though. Might also be coyotes." Will looked at five expectant and slightly nervous looking faces. He chuckled. "Maybe you could sing them another song and we can get a better idea which were dealing with."

"No, really Will. Are there wolves here?"

Niall seemed particularly nervous and added shakily, "And b-b-bears, really?"

Will shook his head. "Yep, but the most wild critters stay away from us. They get a bad reputation, blamed for stupid things people do to themselves, but there you bet there can be bears here, wolves and coyotes. I saw a badger once, that was neat. There was still snow cover up here and it was early in the spring. It was sliding down a snow packed drawl on its belly heading away fast. Kid reminded me of a child sledding away. But cute or not, let me tell you, badgers are the meanest critters of them all. The occasional bear around here has never been a problem. Unless we do something stupid, leave a chunk of bacon cooking all night for example, a bear is not going to look to our camp with interest. Wolves, if there are wolves, they are too smart. They know men and their kind don't mix."

Always thinking Liam asked a more measured question. "What about those cows? Don't ranchers have to worry about wolves and cows?"

Will shook his head. "Before I sold off my stock I'd never lost a single animal to a wolf. I've lost a few calves to winter. But generally it is the weather that worries me the most. Unexpected storms during calving season is the hardest. Calves can be vulnerable to wolves or a bear, sure, but if the predators have their usual game available to hunt they generally don't want our livestock. It's more a nuisance to a rancher than it is a threat to a healthy herd. Those cows that we came up here to get all have calves with them that are plenty old enough to be up here. Like I said. Stay smart and don't take your super into your tents and you won't be appealing to a bear. Wolves don't eat Englishmen, that's only a taste acquired by giants."

Will seemed pleased with himself. The group of boys looked more relaxed and amused except for Niall. Niall maintained an edginess. He was nervously playing another tune he and Louis had been working on before the "never enough" song.

This nervousness over wolves was too temping to Louis. Louis suggested Niall play a bit of the tune. Niall looked into Louis' eyes with Niall's expression suggesting he was feeling a wash of relief for Louis' thoughtfulness. Clearly Niall was expecting Louis was attempting to give him comfort. 

What Louis did next smacked of his need to be the harbinger of mischief. 

Louis sang.

"I hear them calling for you,  
I hear them calling for you"

Louis looked to Zayn and Liam. Winking at them playfully he continued on using the tune he and Niall had been putting together before they'd heard the eerie call. 

"In the middle of the night  
When the wolves come out  
Headed straight for your heart  
Like a bullet in the dark  
One by one I gotta take them down  
But they run and hide  
They're going down without a fight  
O-o-oh I hear them calling for you  
O-o-oh I hear them calling  
In the middle of the night  
When the wolves come out  
Headed straight for your heart  
They go straight for your heart  
I hear them calling for you  
I hear them calling for you"

The clever lyrics meshed so well with the tune that despite the way Niall stopped playing the ukulele with his disbelief at Louis' taunt the melody was locked into the entire group's psyche by the addition of Louis' words. Louis finished his limerick and the idea of teasing Niall was picked up by Zayn and Liam. The two of them repeated the entirety of the song. By the time they got to the end Liam was on his feet dancing. He took Harry by the hand, pulling him to his feet, encouraging Harry's engagement in this sport of teasing Niall. 

As Liam did this he constructed a few additional lines to the story Louis had written. 

"I feel the waves getting started  
It's a rush inside I can't control  
Your eyes keep pulling me in  
But I know, I know, I know"

While it was obvious that the "eyes" Liam referring to were not Harry's, but Niall's it was enough that Louis was not having any of it as Louis was incensed by this dance between the two. He stepped between them giving Liam's torso quite the jolt with his shoulder. Louis delicately took Harry's hand and turned the boy and the song back to his.

"Your friends all talking about me  
They say I got no chance at all  
But your fire is burning deep  
In my soul, my soul, my soul"

Liam abandoned by Harry, turned to try to take Zayn off his arse to pull Zayn in to join him in the dance. Known for his "cool kids don't dance" attitude Zayn gestured with a cross of his arms that was a clear refusal. The act stated "it's just NOT going to happen". Zayn did concede by offering his own to the cleverly constructed song.

"I ain't up for debating  
Ain't up for the taking  
You got the whole world shaking"

Following Zayn's bridge the four of them together sang a repeat Louis' original chorus. Three of them danced around the fire while they sang. With the sun slowly setting anyone who would have stumbled upon this scene would have had a strong impression as they watched. 

It would be like the observer had stepped into the children's book "Where the Wild Things Are". Louis clearly looked to a tee like a living incarnation of the story's pesky main character, little Max.

Liam sank to his knees at Niall's feet once they finished the chorus. He sang directly and persuasively to Niall. 

"I keep on holding tight now  
'Coz your body's telling me don't let go" 

Not to be one-upped, Louis mimed Liam and went to his knees at Harry's feet. He took Harry's hands to play this up as much as possible and sang. 

"We're going to be starting trouble  
I know, I know, I know"

All this silliness finally broke down Niall's wall of fear. He stood up and began strumming the tune playing it on the ukulele. He added his own words at last. His first line was directed at the boys as a whole. 

"It's bringing my demons out  
More than ever now

And keeping with the serenading theme Niall stood directly in front of seated Zayn to add more. 

"Your beauty could start a war  
As you walk in the door"

Zayn remained resolute on the "no, not dancing thing" and repeated his prior bit..."I ain't up for debating  
Ain't up for the taking  
You got the whole world shaking"

All five were singing now. It was a repeat of the chorus. Niall was playing his instrument. The four on their feet were dancing or skipping in a circle. Will was the only one not engaged and he was much amused as he tried to tend the coals which was cooking their supper while avoiding getting run over by one of the frolicking lads. 

Following the chorus Liam stopped in front of Zayn and sung to him.  


"I wish it wasn't true  
But the whole world's tying to get a piece of you  


Again it was Louis who followed Liam. Again he turned his focus to Harry. He took Harry with both hands and moved into Harry swaying them to the tune with a mirage of movement and melody. 

"And my heart keeps biting in this battle of fools  


Got to make it through 

Got to make it through"  


For the first time Harry sung a solo in this. Harry started a repeat of the chorus alone. He clearly wanted to get a jump on the others as he sung the first four lines, "In the middle of the night, when the wolves come out, headed straight for your heart, like a bullet in the dark". 

While he sang Harry's tall form closed in tight against Louis'. His hands cupped Louis' face, thumbs glided over Louis' skin brushing his neck. Fingers went to shoulders then they raced back to cradle again Louis' face. Harry singing was joined by all the others as they together repeated the balance of the chorus "One by one I gotta take them down, but they run and hide, they're going down without a fight, O-o-oh I hear them calling for you, O-o-oh I hear them calling, in the middle of the night, when the wolves come out, headed straight for your heart, they go straight for your heart, I hear them calling for you, I hear them calling for you." 


	41. That's how it is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following the idea of hopeful lads mimicking wolves this is just a small dose of Larry smut, a repeating theme of Harry wanting to exercise control.

There was no howl from the wolves to echo a response to the song.

Five lads were silent waiting for it. 

They held their breath as if to enable themselves to hear more clearly. They looked around exchanging glances to each other as shared hopefulness. Sadly they resigned themselves to sit down and watch Will who was shifting the cooking food without stoking the coals. He hid a slight smile; their unmet beckoning, their anticipation, their excitement over the wild pleased him. It had been a long time since Will had such amusement. He missed it. 

Everyone sat around the fire in silence for several more minutes. Will eventually broke the deadlock.

"Funny things about wolves. You might hear them like we did echoing from miles away. Then they go dead quiet. You're sure that they are gone. But you can turn and walk ten feet away from where you were and see one. Maybe it's come in closer to check you for friend or foe." He let the idea sink in then added, "Right now there could be one standing just up there, up the hill, above us, hidden by the trees, watching everything we do. Never know about wolves." 

Will was pushing the food on to another spot on top of the wood coals. He used his leather gloves to put the two cast iron pots where he thought they were best suited on the fire for even heating. "Or we might have simply scared them off with that singing. Pretty or not."

Despite the final comment Niall looked riddled with fright. The mystery with which Will respresented the wolf, mystery and respect, made him turn pale. The other four got a shiver from Will's suggestion too even though there was a hint of teasing to his voice. Most likely Will was messing with them for sport like the telling of fireside ghost stories. 

Maybe it was that which made them shiver. It also may have been that the sun had disappeared, blocked by the mountains so the temperature had fallen. The air had become crisp and invigorating. Even though the sky was still blue the hue had changed. The air seemed clearer. Appearing low on the horizon was the moon. It was visible against a mountain in a blue sky despite that it was still the sun's domain. This moon was a waxing moon and nearly full. It looked pure white except for the etches of grey from its surface features and craters. 

Taking note of the hour by these cues of nature Will suggested someone get the horses and bring them closer to tie to a high line for overnight. Niall immediately said he wasn't going to go anywhere. No. Not with "wolves lurking behind every tree". Zayn and Liam took to his side and wrapped him between them to assure him he was safe. Will laughed and shook his head at the well played scare. 

Not one to be fearful of much Louis said, "Come on Harry. You and me can get them. We don't want our leprechaun getting eaten by any wolves or we'll never find the gold." 

Harry snorted a laugh about all-things-Niall. The suggestion that Niall could lead anyone to gold particularly amused him. He was thinking the only thing Niall would lead anyone to was food, but he said "Maybe fool's gold. That's about all Niall is good for other than where to find food or beer." 

Louis seemed in thought about that as he was walking up the hill away from their camp. He only hummed like he heard Harry's joke but didn't say anything. When they got not to far away, just nearly out of sight, Louis turned and stepped back to take Harry's hand which he used to pull Harry along. Why the haste Harry didn't know but Louis seemed insistent. He moved faster taking Harry a short way further, seemingly trying to check back as they went to make sure they were clearly out of sight. Then Louis turned into Harry, wrapped his arms around Harry's body to confine them as one as he kissed Harry with a ravenous energy. 

Harry was swept into it. He felt Louis shiver as he returned Louis' urgent and demanding manner of kissing. Was it the chill developing in the air or was it the effect of his kiss on Louis? No lingering uncertainty; Harry felt Louis slip a leg between his, Louis' pelvis pressing into his body. It revealed the hardness Louis was experiencing. This suggested the shiver was because of Harry. Louis would leave no confusion. 

"I think constantly about that day you came to get me and Snowball when we walked back and how much I wanted to be taken by you. I knew the stories about you, so take me I kept thinking and you were so not who you were supposed to be. You were so giddy and nervous. So wrongly labeled has the heartless taker. And I was begging for it with my eyes. I could feel yours looking at me bum but you resisted touching me. You were sweet and...concerned. Like I was fragile. Like I was something special. I just wanted you throw me down and take me like the stories about you, you caught pounding that guy, what was his name, Nick?" 

Louis paused what seemed like an unfinished subject to kiss Harry again and wiggle himself against Harry to make it clear how hard with need he was. To make it absolutley certain that he wasn't asking or begging this time he was straight out demanding it. Then he looked up into Harry's eyes with his. Blue sought depth of green. It may have been some watering like beginnings of tears, or maybe it was the way Louis' flushed skin made his eyes look more spectacular, but when his eyelashes fluttered Harry felt this rush of heat overtake him. Harry burned with memories of how Louis looked that day Harry discovered him sleeping in grass masked by a butterfly. And how something about Louis captured Harry as easy as if he was the butterfly from that day. 

Harry returned Louis' kiss with a bruising determination. He grabbed Louis' arse with one hand and lifted Louis slightly. He felt a need to burn an image of a butterfly through his skin into his soul. Like what was alive inside him now, the passion, the love, was Louis'. 

The lift destabilized them. Harry felt off balance and they went down to the ground. 

Harry was under Louis. He pulled Louis to center onto his lap, nuzzled his neck before letting Louis sit up. 

A physically expressive behavior was a natural part of Louis' personality but it was turned on to high with this attentitive care from Harry. Sure, Harry was being sweet but Louis liked to be all rough and tough. Harry knew that very, very well. 

Louis smiled his naturally eye-crinkling, biggest of smiles at Harry claiming to "have put you right where I want you" before proceeding in tickling and pinching as he was disrobing Harry. He was distractingly flattering, blathering on poetically about how perfect Harry's creamy skin was, how gorgeous his green eyes were, the way his mouth was designed by the gods. 

Harry scarcely noticed how Louis got his pants pulled down even though Harry's dick registered the change of temperature when Louis freed it by just bringing the clothing down enough to pull Harry's cock out. Louis was too good at keeping Harry's mouth he'd been writing an ode to occupied as Louis liberated Harry's dick. Louis pulled back from a kiss moving his hands into Harry's silky hair while he paused otop of Harry admiring him like a devious pixie. Still wearing Harry's too large sweater, licking his lips, Harry was certain Louis was about to consume him. 

Harry moved defensively to sit up keeping a hold of Louis at the waist and nuzzling Louis' neck. Louis turned his head willingly, exposing himself. Harry sucked a mark surely hard enough to make a lingering dark blood bruise. Then he slipped his hands under Louis' tee shirt and pulled it and the sweater up and off of Louis in one swift move. 

"Get these off," Harry said referring to the jeans as he laid himself back. 

Louis was both quick and prepared. Tight jeans or not they were off in a flash. Equally fast as if by magic a small tube of lube appeared. He was quick to squirt it in his hand and positioned himself back over Harry so he held both of their cocks in his hand and slicked them as one. He also reached around himself, squirted lube where, Harry assumed it was dripping down between his round cheeks. 

Harry decided to not touch Louis yet. He just put his arms back behind his head as a head rest and let himself watch the show. Louis stroking them together as one, Louis rocking himself against Harry, Louis using his other hand, Harry suspected to prep that tight hole of his. 

Harry would wait. He would wait until it was killing Louis with need to sit himself down onto Harry's huge cock. He could watch the way Louis' small hand worked their dicks as one and be patient. 

He'd have Louis' legs spread wide off either side of his thighs and he'd avoid urges to thrust himself up into Louis' body when Louis gave into the need to ride him. Louis would become blissed from fucking himself unassisted on Harry. Sensitized Louis would have to do it all. Fingers, Harry's, would absolutely NOT twist nipples until they were sore even though Harry knew Louis would beg for that too. 

Louis' hole would seduce Harry but he would only watch this fucking just as he would watch as the red mark on Louis' collarbone would turn from a shade of red to purple as Louis rode his cock and begged for more help from Harry. 

Harry wouldn't worry if they made a few animals flee from the noises he knew Louis would make. Louis fucking himself senseless to have an organism without Harry's touch was his goal. 

So Harry reclined and relaxed stayed maliciously pleased about that and enjoyed the show in its opening stages. 

But then Louis did sit down slowly and completely in one fluid, taking of dick on the very first penetration. 

All of a sudden Harry's mouth went sandpaper dry. His thought of thirst delivered him a need to taste Louis as the only offering that could quench his sudden parchment. 

Louis smiled like he read Harry's mind, saw the plan, knew it's challenge. He smiled a devious smile. Tilting forward he grabbed Harry's limbs pinning hands there as if he had the greater strength and whispered to Harry. 

"Okay so that's how it is, hum? Make me do all the work, babe? No play, okay, but you're gonna pay." 

"Fuck!" Harry thought.


	42. I want to write you a song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut concludes. Afterwards Harry makes an interesting discovery causing resurgence of intrigue. There are song references to things like hearts and boats but no answer to Harry's direct ask.

Harry was pretty sure he had fallen asleep. 

He remembered thinking that the idea of a butterfly etching into his soul was real because he felt it burning on the skin of his torso. That was until he realized this post-orgasmic thought was induced by a flutter sensation cause by Louis. Louis had come to rest against Harry's chest and Louis's heart was still racing. Indeed it was Louis who did all the work during the dicking. Harry just watched, struggling to do so, but yes, just w a t c h e d as Louis rode him to a point of exhaustion. 

The way Louis rolled his hips, careful cadence with such that truly masterful control. It was unlike anything Harry had ever experienced as Louis punctuated each pelvic undulation with a momentary pause that was pinning the head of Harry's cock deep inside at just such a perfect spot. At this precise pressure was applied Louis arched his back and let his head fall back. Harry could feel a shudder from Louis. Louis was torturously edging himself. 

Then, shortly after each pause and shudder Louis would begin anew, lifting up, moving his bum to change the angle, rolling his hips. He was coated in a slight sheen of sweat and kept his eyes closed. It was visual poetry to watch. 

Harry came suddenly and unannounced. The rush of hot semen made Louis opened his eyes. He grasped Harry's hair in fists full of curls as Harry continued spilling himself deep within Louis. Harry finally broke from his role of reserved "observer" because he was so sensitized thorough his orgasm; it seemed to last longer than any in his memory of previous exploits, he finally screamed out about the pain telling Louis "pleeeeaaasse!" in a slurring of desperation for less contact. 

But Louis didn't pull off. 

Harry choaked and sputtered unintelligently from the pleasure-pain boundary that Louis trapped him in. It was only with the splash of cum scattering over Harry's torso that told him that Louis was having his own unstoppable organic reaction of their love-making. As Louis flecked Harry's skin with the final drops of jizz Harry felt his body was making its peace with Louis'. Instead of wanting Louis to pull off away away Harry reached out to pull Louis down onto him chest to chest. Immediately his cock slipped out. His cum dripped down onto him verifying he'd filled Louis with abundant seed. Then it was sex-numb sleep that took Harry with his last conscious thought that idea of a butterfly generated by the panting breaths the of Louis post orgasm.

They had left the camp to fetch the horses and the sun had been low enough to be blocked by the mountain. That had dropped the temperature immediately. As the lovers laid pressed together recuperating the sun slipped lower. The sky was still blue, but the edge of the horizon where the sun was seen last appeared blazingly yellow where sky met earth. This had two major effects; it made everything look cast in a gold filter and a hint more of evading sun made Louis shiver. 

The shiver is what woke Harry. Shifting they both jumped to action with one thought. The horses. They were to get them. How long had they been doing what they did? Neither knew. When alone together time seemed irrelevant. They didn't hesitate to grab their clothes, dress, while smiling at each other. Both were conflicted. Responsibility beckoned but they could easily fall into each other again and again. 

Once dressed they began to walk and for a minute kept their communication restricted to the smiles they exchanged. Smiles and giggles. There was a bit of bumping hips against each other. And a scattering of hands finding each other's for the unspoken battle of attraction which transformed into tickling and poking or hair ruffling. Pretty much anything that said without the words what they both felt. 

They found the horses and it was easy to gather them because once Harry took one horse the others were very willing to play follow the leader. 

Walking back down the slight hill they again were engaged in more bumping into each other, more poking and tickling. Every so often one tried to plant a quick peck of a kiss on the other. So distracted were they that even the horse they were leading, Jazz, seemed annoyed by their schoolboy antics and began to pull on the rope and lead them back to camp. Enough silliness. 

They stopped to sneak a kiss. It ended up having a lingering to it so Jazz nudged Harry with his head giving Harry quite the shove.

Harry was sent forward such that he lost his balance and stumbled. 

Reaching the boundary of the camp site Harry tripped he came to a stop at the spot slightly removed from the tents where Will had placed his camp sack, which was basically a bed roll and a few personal items.

Harry was noticing how the spot Will picked to sleep was flat and ideal for sleeping. It also gave an ideal view of the campfire a short ways below it and the lake, mountain behind that. Harry was going to point out to Louis that Will positioned himself sleeping in the best spot of all when Harry noticed a rock. 

Off a short ways from the site was a rock like any other rock in the Rocky Mountains except it wasn't. It was what Harry tripped over. This rock was placed overlooking the spectacular view. The lake. The giant boulders in the lake. The mountain backdrop of the lake. The waterfall off the mountain below which was the natural hot pool. 

And again Harry recognized it was just an ordinary rock. Big. But not exceptional. What caught his attention was that on the rather flat side of it that side it facing the beauty around it were markings.

The markings were letters.

"F. E. R."

Louis turned and looked at Harry. He didn't see what Harry was looking at. He pointed out to Harry there was a bird flying over the lake clueless of Harry's discovery at Harry's feet. 

Harry looked up seeing just a tiny glimpse of the raptor realizing too that his breathing was doing that thing it had been for too long because of Louis. Harry had thought he had that under control now that he admitted to himself his feeling discussed feelings with his counselor. At this moment though, he was back to being a person trying to deny thinking of something they couldn't comprehend. Was this a marker? 

"We're late." Louis said. 

That was all he said. He was smiling so pretty at Harry like all was perfect with the world. He rushed past Harry and grabbed the lead rope on Jazz' taking the horse from Harry. Louis scurried down the hill taking the horse without a word. The other horses followed. Louis rejoined the group where Liam was quick to take the rope from him. Liam began putting the horses in order, tying them to the high line for the night. Niall went with Liam to help. Harry found himself coming along behind uncertain whether to help with the horses or to go to Louis. 

In he spilt second he considered the choices he found that Louis ran to the side of Zayn to throw himself really tightly snugged beside Zayn. Louis was clearly cold and the fire was not enough since it was kept low enough for idea camp cooking. 

Whatever it was about the way they entered the campsite Zayn must have caught the edge of jitteriness in Harry because he immediately put and arm a round Louis and tucked the smaller lad to him while he looked questioningly at Harry. Harry shook the question off. 

It was Will Harry looked to. Will who was just taking the food completely off the fire and happily engaged talking with Zayn. He hadn't yet acknowleddged Louis' or Harry's return. At least nobody appeared curious about their delay or questioned why they were back with the horses having taken much longer than expected.

Harry studied Will. Maybe no one was curious about their delay, but there was certainly something that Harry was himself extremely curious about. 

"Will?" Harry said interrupting the conversation bewteenn Zayn and Will, "What was Francie's middle name?" 

Will gave Harry a passing glance as he replied but once he gave the answer he went back to what he was saying to Zayn when Harry interrupted their ongoing chat. 

"Edward. It was Edward." Will said. Same as Harry's ironically. 

Francie Edward. Francie Edward? And the "R"? Harry pondered. He was afraid to ask. He could imagine that in Will and Frank's world were they married? The R was perhaps for Will's family name Riley. 

Harry looked back at Louis. 

He was snuggled into Zayn who was regarding him like a parent of a child, tolerating the way Louis was wiggling into him demandingly almost of Zayn's comfort. Zayn was maintaining an arm around Louis. His other arm went across Louis belly so Zayn could clasp hands in gentle restraint. It was adorable. Even the way Harry's jumper fit Louis added to this image. The sleeves were down over his fingertips even though he rolled them up. The neck slipped around so Louis was always fidgeting with it. Basically he looked like a small child. A pixie. And it the changing light Louis seemed to radiate like he was magical. Harry imagined he could close his eyes and when he opened them this entire scene could all be gone. Fear of that, the impact of realizing he could end up like Will, living years in love yet alone, secured that Harry couldn't take his eyes off Louis. 

As if on que a voice beside him said, "Geez Harry, stare much?" 

It was Niall. The blond lad was finished helping Liam who was joining them at the fire and beginning to follow Will's lead and bringing camp plates and utensils preparing for serving. The chili turned out to be an elk stew. The cornbread looked amazing. It had a layer of honey poured over it and seemed plentiful enough to enjoy with the stew and still have plenty more for desert after.

*** 

As the six of them ate they shared more than just great food. Conversations too, came easily and were filled with laughter and the good natured teasing that comes from a sense of comeradery among men. 

Throughout the course of having a meal it was Harry who was the most usually quiet. For those who knew him it seemed only that Harry couldn't keep his mind on anything other than maybe thoughts he shouldn't openly express; he was often staring at Louis with a hungry lustfulness that was palpable. 

And who could fault him? The sunlight had come to cast the scene in an ever changing array of colors. The effect was to make everyone look honeyed and aglow. Louis had that particular way of looking radiant in any light therefore the setting sun playing on his native coloring creating a particularly riveting effect. Louis occasionally became conscious of Harry's staring. He would stop his speech or listening to that from any of the others to look at, focus on only Harry amid conversation. Repeatedly they both forgot all else when their eyes met. For Harry it seemed Louis' eyes sparkled; Harry would stare into them more intensely. For Louis meeting the longing-laden stare was like falling into a deep green pool. He could read from the unspoken of Harry's yearning stare the desire. It was a desire Louis couldn't wait to soon be able to fulfill. 

Every minute they were together but not touching was too far apart from that constant need for the other. 

Sunsets of the intermountain west was one thing most boys coming to Bar 3 would always take away with them in memories simply because they were spectacular. On clear nights the sunset brought a brilliance of transitioning colors. 

The five boys from Bar 3 followed up their dinner with bringing pails of water from the lake to boil over the fire to wash dishes. While they cleaned up plates and utensils they were treated to a particularly spectacular show of nature. The moon made a move higher in the sky. The horizon was amber marking where the sun was last seen. Slowly the change began; gold changed to a peachy-orange. Light reflecting off the scant few clouds in the sky gave the edges of the clouds a rosey iridescence as if the clouds were on fire while their centers looked deep lilac. Soon all blue was gone from the sky. Shades of yellow that gave way to peach soon became a true orange which then blended into something of a coral hue. It was at this stage of the sunset that all the surrounding mountain features, rocks, trees, ripples on the water took on a hint of a red like a sheer, rouge-tinted filter was overlaying everything. A small group of birds that were feeding on the lake made ripples in the water and the ripples themselves looked like actual fire. It was not long after the dishes were finished before the sunset was complete but it was not without a final flash of color. In a red sky the few clouds were deep purple. The light relecting off a distant planet was visible sharing the sky with the brilliantly lit moon. Soon the mountains would be unseen all but disappearing in the blackness of the wilderness at night. 

Once darkness came the boys had no need of human-sourced light. They refueled their fire with more wood and enjoyed the brilliance of the nearly full moon. It was suddenly markedly cooler. Everyone needed to add another layer. Harry felt compelled by how Louis was quick to shiver earlier, even with the sun out, to insist that Louis take one of exterior layers he'd brought for himself. He gave Louis his fleece-lined denim jacket, because he was certain Louis' unlined coat was too light. Being out on the mountain again Harry's memories of nearly dead hypothermic Louis made him protective and motherly. He also went to their tent to bring them each a beanie noting that everyone else, even Will, had donned a knit hat of some sort before settling around the fire.

When Harry returned with the beanies Niall was strumming the ukulele and the four lads were making humorous passes at stringing together words to make limericks of some sort. Pulling out a harmonica, Will was attempting to imitate the notes of Niall's tune. Everyone at the firecircle took turns sipping from a jug containing one of Will's home brews and passing it around as Will reconstructed the song by ear off what Niall played.

Harry presented Louis with the beanies. He stood over Louis as the two passed the options back and forth. Louis wanted to try them each to find the one with the best "feel". As Harry patiently waited for Louis to try them on, make his pick, Harry over heard Zayn talking with Will who paused after accomplishing successfully playing Niall's tune. 

Will and Zayn were in some conversation about earlier in the afternoon. From what Harry heard they shared a good deal of quality time together talking, getting to know each other, while all the others were in the hot pool across the lake. Zayn was inquiring about some birds that had been around? Will was clarifying for Zayn bird identification. 

"A city boy like yourself might not have much experience with nature. The difference between one bird of the next might evade you. It's really good observational skills that you thought those birds were crows. However, we don't have crows up here. We have more ravens in this region generally. Basically the two species look the same. Solid black, big, though both are smaller than something like the hawk that you saw flying around earlier. We also had a peregrine falcon fly over, not sure if you saw that one. But the pesky birds that were in the camp that you're asking about were a kind of jay. Used to be called Camp-robber Jay's because they are known for stealing food or shiny things from campers. Those you saw were in the shade. That made them look pretty dark, it easy to see how you'd think they were all black. But those jays are Stellar's Jays. They're actually really pretty in the light. Their feathers are blue fading to gray with black flecks and black on their head. If you don't see them in the good light they look all black, like a crow but they are much smaller. They're one of my favorites. I like pesky, pesky birds..." Will continued on. 

It seemed Zayn was genuinely interested. He was asking more questions so Will was describing to him how to tell the difference between the two raptors they saw, the falcon verses the hawk. Then it lead to a question that had Will answering that, no, the identifying feature on that bird was not the eyebrows. Will specifically addressed eyebrows saying "birds don't have eyebrows, being non-haired critters". He explained to Zayn bird identifying features that are brown-like using terms like "lateral crown stripe" or "line through eye", "eye-ring", and so on. 

Harry was simultaneously amazed at what a naturalist Will was and what interest Zayn, of all people, could have in the native flora. Meanwhile Louis settled on which beanie he preferred. Harry looked at this pixie thinking about birds. He could imagine that if he and Louis were drawn in bird form they would each have very different "bird identification details". Louis was so curvy in every way. Tight, firm, curvy. As for Harry he was more lanky. His muscles were more massive than Louis but he maintained a leanness that made him seem even taller,straighter than he was. Harry was used to people falling for him and his beauty. He'd heard himself described in such a range from cherub to Adonis. The one thing he could never understand was the way persons had labeled him the Most Beautiful. He looked at Louis, Zayn, Niall and Liam. What was beauty? How could it only be in one form? 

Philospohical questions in his own mind lead to Harry forgetting he eavesdropping until Zayn said something that seemed quite couched in its framing as he asked Will yet another question. 

Harry turned and looked at Zayn. When was Zayn going to confide about his plans? Why was he so mysterious? For days Harry had been literally going mad over Louis evasiveness but then Zayn was hardly much better. How would Niall and Liam feel knowing there were big shakeups in the threesome's perfect world. 

Zayn must have gotten his fill of natural history because he suggests to Will that Will play again that tune Niall was working on. Will played it. Repeated it. Did it yet again. Niall asked Zayn if he needed someone to play it more completely. As by a way of an answer Zayn sang. 

Looking to Liam to Niall he put on a very overt, deliberate serenade for them. "Everything I need I get from you  
Givin' back is all I wanna do  
Everything I need I get from you  
Givin' back is all I wanna do."

The response to his singing was to whoop it up over Zayn's perfect parlez of a phase. There was some back slapping and everyone wanted him to sing it again. This time Niall lead off the tune plucking it out on the ukulele. 

Zayn sand again but he comically turned to serenade just Liam with a new verse, "I want to write you a song  
One that's beautiful as you are sweet  
In just a hint of pain  
For the feeling that I get when [I am] gone  
I want to write you a song."

Again when Zayn finished their was whooping and applauds all around. The jug made a circle as everyone laughed and complemented Zayn. Harry almost stopped to think, really think, about what Zayn meant. Afterall he was alluding to leaving Bar 3. Maybe, sort of. But instead Harry felt his first sense of tipsy from alcohol and he turned to Louis because Niall had started plucking the tune again as if to encourage more from Zayn. 

Harry to Louis sang, "I want to lend you my coat  
One that's as soft as your cheek  
So when the world is cold  
You'll have a hiding place you can go  
I want to lend you my coat."

Harry was very much pleased with himself. That the others were applauding his efforts was moot. He just amused himself with how small Louis was in his coat. Against sleeves covered fingertips. The jacket swallowed Louis so completely that Harry fancied the idea of Louis as small as a pocket mouse this his verse. 

Zayn took back his song when the compliments of Harry's creativity waned. He repeated with his chorus singing directed to Niall this time, "Everything I need I get from you  
Givin' back is all I wanna do"

Louis waited just barely for Zayn to finish. He turned to Harry, "I want to build you a boat  
One that's strong as you are free  
So any time you think that your heart is gonna sink  
You know it won't  
I want to build you a boat."

Harry understood the implied meaning, subtle reference to Harry's heart. He smiled but as the others cheered Louis' effort Harry just nodded. Smiled and nodded. 

Zayn picked up the song once again shifted to be generally directing his words to Liam and Niall, "Everything I need I get from you  
Givin' back is all I wanna do  
Everything I need I get from you  
Givin' back is all I wanna do."

After the song Louis stood and said he was going into the shadows to have a wee. There was considerable joking about the prospects of meeting wolves, prospect of them lurking in the dark just out of sight, Louis making a fine meal. Louis scoffed at the attempt to frighten and turned to leave.

Needing answers Harry rose and suggested he just walk into the woods just a few feet to just be extra careful though. ."On the safe side", because Louis was "so small". Everyone was laughing at Harry's protectiveness and the growing joke about Louis because it seemed to irritate him. After th pe scare he gave them earlier in lake they welcomed dishing back some pain. 

A short distance from the fire and the air felt markedly colder. Louis stopped and stepped into Harry so they could enclose each other in an embrace. 

"It's okay Harry. Go back. M'just going to have a quick wee. You don't need to hold me dick for this." 

Harry didn't immediately let go. He felt Louis pulling away but he held him there for a split second to command Louis listen. "Louis, you can't keep asking me to be in my heart when you aren't giving me anything about the life outside of here that is yours." 

Louis pushed Harry in a playful way and with the purpose of directing Harry to move back toward the fire. He made the movements soft and gentle like how a parent would send off a child. Turning his back to Harry he replied in his typical fashion devoid of any seriousness or emotional entanglement. "There really just isn't anything so interesting Harry. It's not anything to tell."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to One Direction for the song. You know this already, "I want to write you a song" from Made in the AM.


	43. In the region of the summer stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, they are still up on the mountain having a good time although Harry is tortured...stupid references in cryptic words fireside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... this is dragging on painfully apparently readers are getting pained by my blasted lingering unknowns. This is why the slow death...
> 
> It's a plot thing. For Harry to go down the road he does, very soon, for him to get into a place where he has hurt enough to to be stupid, return to reckless, meaningless sex (like with Greg) his character needs a reason. Soon Harry is leaving Bar3. Having some issues he isn't quite understanding makes his character interesting. Eventually life lessons will take him back to this weekend, these stars, these relationships/songs. Ultimately it will all work out. 
> 
> So I think I'm doing another round with "snippets" of song lyrics (next). Just snippets though because Harry will create from the song pieces his own work later when he's back home in the UK (where he will do song song writing). 
> 
> And then there's a bunch of sex they need to have while up in the mountains...can't get that out of my head, because, well, not that I'm a horrible person. But. I. Like. Imagining. Them. Having. Great. Bro-sex.  
> Okay so they they go back to the ranch and all hell breaks loose. Australians linchpin sort of a thing there.

*** 

A moment's break from the fire was enough for Harry to sober a little. He realized when he joined the others how loud they were. Loud and getting a little drunk. Another song was in process of sorts but not progressing much without a lot of interruptions and laughter. 

Niall was drunkenly attempting composition with the silly little stringed instrument, but Will was actually doing better taking Niall's efforts, sorting the melody out and playing it back to Niall on the harmonica. Perhaps this was because Will had more experience balancing the effect of drink than Niall. In any regard, Harry sat down on a log and quietly enjoyed the fire side entertainment. Words were moving into his head influenced by the music and the emotions this little piece of heaven inspired. 

Niall was sortof singing something softly to Zayn. Zayn sortof singing something to Niall too so only Niall could hear him. It was like Zayn was sharing a secret. As he finished Niall and Zayn whispered between them like lovers do. Harry felt a soft touch on the back of his shoulder which alerted Harry that Louis was rejoining them. 

Louis' touch lingered over Harry as his fingers slid from shoulder blade, down along Harry's arm with a softness to it like Harry was the most precious thing ever. Louis stepped between Harry's slightly parted legs and dropped to the earth between them. With Harry positioned on a log, which made him higher, Louis was able to comfortably lean back to Harry using him as a backrest. The two pressed together like this with Harry's body framing Louis' and listened as the others continued a melody. Zayn and Niall kept breaking off the tune occasionally to whisper their lover's secrets. 

Harry liked having Louis nestled up against him. He wrapped his arms around Louis. The way Louis was when he was content. Soft. Mailable. It was a thing Harry knew he wanted to carry with him always. Endlessly. 

Playing of music continued. 

The song Niall was writing had a sound to it that struck Harry as referential of a Simon and Garfunkle tune. Zayn began to sing but it was so softly sung that only Niall could hear him. The two whispered about it when Zayn finished. Whispered. And looked at Liam who was in a trance staring into the fire, absorbed in his own thoughts. 

The wood popped and snapped in the fire from the sap the wood contained. Sparks rose up from the combustion and disappeared into darkness. The natural thing was to watch these embers, follow them traveling to the sky. Moonlit or not the watchers discovered that the night sky over head was filled with stars. One could easily see the Venus, close to the moon, the Milkyway and countless constellations.

"Are you counting stars?" Harry asked Louis. Louis had begun to trace something in the night sky with a fingertip of an extended hand which caught Harry's interest. 

The question came as the jug was passed again. The music had temporarily stopped. Everyone heard Harry's question. For a minute they all gaze up seeking their own answers. 

High in the mountains, untouched by the bright lights of man, it seemed that one could almost touch a star.

"That mass of stars there," Louis said not knowing what he was pointing to, "it's looks to me like a wave of curls. Like someone took your beautiful curls, Harry, tried to copy their scroll and made it permanent in the stars like the gods used to do. Your hair Curly, silky and long. Placed in the stars for me." 

"Louis, not everything is about my hair, or my mane, as you like to call it." 

Louis looked back and up at Harry. He smiled so big, effusively. "Your right Harry. It's also about your eyes and your..." 

Harry reached with one hand to caress Louis' jaw catching Louis before he blurted out something Harry was certain would be pornographic. Fingers slid over the flawless perfection of Louis' bone structure, brushing over lips seducing them to part just a tiny bit and interrupting, shutting down, all of Louis' thoughts. The tip of Louis' tongue caught the tip of Harry's thumb just as his hand finished its sweep and began to travel back a path like Harry was going to cradle the back of Louis' neck to pull him in for a kiss. 

"Hey angle" Louis managed to get out. Those around the fire with them sharply fixed their gaze away from the intimacy of the two sensing the inevitability of a kiss. 

The brink passed because as Niall looked to the sky embarrassed by their display decided it was exact perfect timing to commence the song again. He picked up playing the Simon and Garfunkle-like tune and this time Zayn sang the words they'd put together for all to hear. 

"A week ago you said to me, "Do you believe I'll never be too far? If you're lost, just look for me. You'll find me in the region of the summer stars, The fact that we can sit right here and say goodbye, Means we've already won, A necessity for apologies between you and me, Baby, there is none." 

Zayn words were prophetic. Harry recognized it immediately. He completely forgot his instead kiss and thought hard of the words; here they were, the five of them sitting precisely in the region of the summer stars like the song suggested. They were among stars so close it seemed you could touch them and Zayn was singing about not being to far but leaving, apologies or not...what the actual fuck? 

Niall sang next, "We had some good times, didn't we? We had some good tricks up our sleeve, Goodbyes are bitter-sweet, But it's not the end, I'll see your face again." 

The words Niall used had Harry newly confused. Was Niall aware that Zayn was potentially leaving or staying on some sort of special circumstance of a work-study program? The two had been so cozy and full of whispering between them. And then they come out with this. It was not just the words. Their singing, their performance of the lyrics, was more or less directed to Liam based on who they were looking at. So what was going on? 

The song took a rhythm and when Niall and Zayn looked at each other like they weren't sure where to go with it, starting to play it again, then stopping and starting again. As if to rescue them Louis sat up a little and offered some words. 

"You will find me, yeah you will find me, In places that we've never been, For reasons we don't understand, Walking in the wind, walking in the wind." 

All around the smoothness of the fit was recieved with smiles. All, that is except for one. 

Harry forgot his anaflexis over Zayn, Zayn's secrets held, because now Harry's brow was furrowed and his head was splitting in pain from the meaning of so many things Harry felt were secret from him. Things cryptic and hidden. Alluded to only by words like "you will find me in places that we've never been for reasons we don't understand". 

What the actual fuck did Louis mean by that? 

Dwelling on Louis' meaning was short-lived. As if he was cursed by the riddles written in the lives of those around him, Will, of all the fucking people spoke, spoked more than sang, a set of lines to contribute to the melody. 

"Yesterday I went out to celebrate the birthday of a friend, but as we raised our glasses up to make a toast, I realised you were missing." he said. 

To which Liam added, "We had some good times, didn't we? We wore our hearts out on our sleeve. Goodbyes are bitter-sweet, But it's not the end, I'll see your face again."

All but Harry were joined to follow Liam in sing, a repeat of Louis' words, "You will find me, yeah you will find me, In places that we've never been, For reasons we don't understand, Walking in the wind, walking in the wind..." 

Harry was quite literally complete dumbfounded as to how to react. If he had doubts about whether this friend or that friend was speaking in code in their lyrics it didn't matter. One thing he was certain of was that indeed Will had a very specific personal meaning to his words about a missing friend. He was bleeding his sorrow over his long dead lover who as they partied by the fire was buried right up the hill, there, right beyond their camp not far from where Will would sleep. 

Harry was certain when he felt the pain in his head combined with the flash of light that he assumed he only imagined that he was experiencing a massive migraine or some neurological response to so much emotion. But then he realized everyone saw the light. 

Niall, Zayn and Liam all mumbled words of astonishment. Will was silent perhaps because he knew of this well from so many years of coming to this pristine place. It was a gateway to the celestial.

Louis bolted upright, the back of his head no longer firmly pressing into Harry's chest, looking to the stars he gasped , "Was that! Was it? A star?" 

Sure enough they had just witnessed a shooting star in its fleeting journey in the heavens right beyond their grasp. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song lyrics credited to One Direction; "Walking with the Wind" from Made in the AM.


	44. Infinity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A shooting star crosses the sky. The boys sit transfixed. More drunken poetry to music unfolds. Louis promises disclosure back at the ranch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs quoted here are "Fools Gold" off Four by One Direction and "Infinity" from the Made In the AM by One Direction. The * indicates a word or two change from the actual lyrics to fit these songs into the storyline. Thank you for reading. Please leave a comment.

After the shooting star disappears the boys are filled with excitement. They are full of questions. Everything about the night sky was suddenly more alive. Like children from a primary school visiting a zoo for the first time they pepper Will with questions. His lifetime of living and working in the natural world in which he ranched made him well stocked with knowledge, experience, prepared for their inquiry. What constellations could they see? What was that brightest star? Was their camp far enough into the northern latitude to see the Northern Lights?

Orienting off the Dipper and Orion, Will teaches them how to pick out other constellations using those references turning from one cluster of stars to the next like scanning a wheel in the sky. They learn the bright star near the moon in the sky was actually Venus, not actually a star at all. This leads them into a lengthy side discussion about Venus, the goddess of love. This distracts them for awhile but soon they are onto further questions like what makes the Aurora Borealis and other curiosities visible in the northwest sky. 

Silliness from the effects of their drink gets the better of them. Slightly inebriated, in hailing deeply when they realize that Will was no longer smoking tobacco in his pipe but something else, it suddenly it became difficult for them to think of more questions. They became reflectively quiet. The only sound was the cracking and popping of moisture, sap burning off in the wood of the fire. Minutes passe by like this. 

Louis reclines back onto Harry as his backrest. Harry's long, extended legs become Louis' arm rest. 

Being tall is still an awkward thing for Harry; it happened to him almost overnight so his mind is always adjusting to this stature because Harry is a person who seems more at peace with being small. He bends forward into Louis, slips his arms around his pixie, the two are meshed together into something like one. 

Sitting across from them Niall, Liam and Zayn also pull closer together. They seam the spaces beside them so all gaps are lost. Like Harry and Louis they quietly watch embers, counting stars. Everyone is content. 

***

A slight breeze wafts across the camp. It invigorates the fire and a plume of smoke goes directly at Harry and Louis. Louis coughs overly dramatically. 

"Not into smoke." Louis says. 

Zayn laughs. He remembers the circumstance of their first meeting. The way the stallion nearly pulverized Louis. How they shared cigarettes and Louis sputtered and choaked with the smoke.

"No, you're not too good with that. Anything else you're not so much good with?" Zayn asks. He knows all too well how Louis is good with things like seductiveness as his image laying up against Harry with the glow of the fire makes him look more than ever like some sexual being. 

"Tattoos" Louis says. "Not ever going to do that."

Zayn laughs again. He takes out his cigarettes and lights one. "It's not like Louis, that you got to start with something like a giant pair of birds on your chest. You could try something small...a triangle on you ankle, you know..."

"Birds" Niall snorts. He pulls away slightly from his two mates, picks up the ukulele and begins strumming it. "What was that thing you were saying when you were singing earlier Louis? Something about a a bird on a wire?" 

No one could follow Niall's thought. Was he talking in refernce to tattoos? Birds? What birds in a song? 

The group gets quiets again as they listen to Niall's playing. Will continues to smoke. They go between staring into the fire and gazing up at the sky. Contentedness is in their manner. Louis never answered Niall he just seems to be almost melting back into Harry sleepily. No one seems too inclined to do more than listen as Niall plays on leaving his quirky "birds" comment unanswered despite he had a point to make with it. 

Unbeknownst to the others the need to urinate hits Niall. They see him as becoming jumpy because he is struggling to recall a tune he wants to play. He keeps starting and stopping the same song with a challenge to find the right chords becoming more obvious.  


Increasingly frustrated Niall says, "I can't remember how this went. We had a thing and a bridge thing, and I can't remember it. But now I got this thing in my head about stars, falling stars, so I won't be able to sleep tonight until I work this out."

Louis seems nearly asleep but Niall's conflict stirs him. He sits up, looks over his shoulder giving Harry a warm smile, then he moves close to Niall to assist. 

"I'll help you. I think that bit you were doing wasn't the main part, that was your bridge, so that's what is confusing you. I remember it because I had these words in my head when you did that earlier.

Louis sings what he identified as Niall's bridge unaccompanied, "I know your loves not real that's not the way it feels..."

"No, that's not it." Niall says as he cuts Louis off. 

"What do you mean? Yes it is." Louis retorts. He sounds almost offended that Niall doubts him. "You're talking about the song with the words about the star, and the bird, the song about being wanted, desired right? I know how it went. I remember what you played. That's not it." 

To prove his point Louis sings again starting from what was "not the bridge" of the song he wrongly thinks is the one he and Niall are arguing over. "And I know in my heart, you're not a constant star" 

Louis shakes his head affirmatively at Niall as if to say "yes, this is the song" as he continues to sing unaccompanied. Meanwhile Niall is concurrently shaking his head, but shaking it "no" yet not interrupting Louis this time. 

Louis sing on, "And yeah I've let you use me from that day that we first met,  
But I'm not done yet,  
Falling for you,  
Fool's gold."  


Louis continues still waiting for Niall to play along although he's getting nothing from Niall to accompany him. "And I knew that you turn it on for everyone you met,  
But I don't regret,  
Falling for you,  
Fool's gold."  


Feeling emotion of the words Louis turns around so he is twisted toward Harry. With their gazed fixed on each other he keeps singing forgetting he's making a point to Niall because for him this words, in their inception, were a reflection of the feelings he has for Harry. He could not sing about his muse's beauty and not do so without serenading the muse. 

"I'm the first to admit that I'm reckless,  
I get lost in your beauty and I can't see two feet in front of me.  
And I know in my heart, you're just a moving part,  
And yeah I've let you use me from that day that we first met,  
But I'm not done yet  
Falling for you,  
Fool's gold."  


"And I know* that you turn it on for everyone you met,  
But I don't regret  
Falling for you,  
Fool's gold."

Harry's mind is swimming in the implication of the words of the song, they plung him deep into the cold shock wave of their meaning. So many times Louis had said during sex that he only wanted Harry to use him. Use him! And clearly Louis was a person who was always, always reckless. And Louis was also always telling Harry during sex how he was so deeply loss in "Harry's beauty"...the curls, the lips, Harry's eyes, his flesh...

And now there it was. It was this. Harry's heart. 

Louis sings the line he'd begun the song with when he and Niall first began arguing over what song had the star reference in it. 

"I know your love's not real that's not the way it feels..." Those words trail off slowly. Louis suggests to Harry with them that he still held his to belief that Harry's heart is a fortress. The corollary to that premise, the logical extension, was that Louis was only of value to Harry as a thing to be used. So Louis chooses to let Harry use him. 

How deep were Harry's scars from being no more than that, a thing to use, as he was to someone Harry loved once, his first love? It's immeasurably deep. But here is Louis singing the thing Louis said for Harry to do to him over and over again. Louis is singing that he is fine with the role. Louis would take it. He would take anything from Harry. Fool's gold. 

Seizing the opportunity Harry clasps Louis' head in his hands. He pulls their lips together and he kisses Louis with overpowering passion that says "stop everything" and it says without words what needs to be said. 

His love is real, the kiss screams! Harry's heart has love in it again. And while to Harry this song is a confession of so many things Louis is, there is no chance going forward, of Harry letting Louis out of their kiss, until Louis is absorbed into Harry. Request granted, after all, Louis had said over and over again that he wanted to be "in there". Louis had tapped Harry on the chest many a time and said it clear and direct, let me in your heart. Unlike Louis' replies to questions about his delinquent past, where Louis was evasive, when it came to the matter of having Harry, his heart or his dick Louis was always quite clear. He wanted, demanded it. 

This kiss was to be Harry's answer. 

It was one of those things, a kiss so passionate. Louis melts into it. The two entwine their bodies. It seems with them to be a thing that is nowhere close to ending. Several minutes later their kiss is still no less heated. 

Niall smiles and strums out the notes from those Louis sang before the kiss. Then he pretends like Louis and Harry aren't making out right in front of them all and decides to talk to Louis about the still disputed song. 

"Right Louis, that wasn't it. Not the constant star song, the falling to earth-star one that is the song stuck in my brain. I forgot 'bout the one you're thinking of. It has star in it too. I got to get the other one worked out though. It pains my brain..so maybe when you come back from...wherever...if you and Harry, um, come up for air, maybe..." Niall gives up trying to coerce Louis into interests in poetry and laughs at them.

Harry and Louis aren't acknowledging any world exists beyond the other. It becomes a thing that the other four have to ignore like isn't in their face because Harry begins to get amorous. He run his hands over Louis' body. What begins as hands on top of clothing makes its way into hands under clothing. Harry pulls Louis into him tighter. The camp as a whole has a great view as Harry's hand slides under the oversized jumper, makes a valiant effort to wedge one into the tight jeans, Harry squeezes Louis' undeniably seductive bum. 

And Louis mews and bends into Harry. 

Overwhelmed perhaps. Niall is like a young vampire newly absorbed. Louis' sound is a call to him he doesn't understand. Or so it seems at first. Niall jumps from his seated place like he was incapable of focus. He stands and begins strumming with a frenetic lack of attention to consistency. He randomly makes comments about "birds" or "stars" but becomes an increasingly distracted. It is like he is embarrassed that the two were closing to the point of getting it on...right there at the fireside. Finally his behavior is undeniably agitated. Zayn looks at Liam and shakes his head about Niall's antics.

Liam takes an alpha role and decides this is demanding enough. "Niall what the fuck is your deal? Why dont you ignore them? Admittedly t h e y should get a r o o m, um, I mean a tent. Hey guys can you maybe n o t do that right here? In front of us, please."

Niall abruptly stops all playing. He twists his hips and his knees, does a a tiny jig and says, "lt's not them Liam. Nothing Louis, believe me, nothing, he does shocks me anymore. I got to wee, bad!"

Liam laughs. He makes an arm gesture to match his words, "Well have at it. The entire world is your bathroom, Ni. Go have a pee then."

Niall looks suddenly pale even in the light of the campfire. "But Li, there are wolves out there! M'not going into the woods to be eaten." 

Everyone had forgotten this. Even Harry and Louis were dislodged form each other by the humor of it. Breathless, Louis looks so ravaged; he might have been bruised or bleeding from the way he checks his lips with a hand in the light of the fire. But they all laugh at Niall. 

Liam stands, pulls Niall into him. Ruffling Niall's hair he takes the ukulele out of Niall's hands and kissing Niall's forehead. He says teasingly, "Pretty sure the only one tempted to eat you here tonight is not going to be the canine sort. Why didn't you say something? I'll go with you then."

Will stands up too. "Okay, all this," he says clearly referring Harry and Louis, as much as Niall being, "eaten", was a level of over-share where he had to drawl his line, "...this, is my cue that it is time for me to climb into my bedroll." -

Will takes his rifle and says goodnight to them all. He calls Harry "Prince Harold" in his salutations and heads up to the trees where his untented bedroll was waiting. Niall and Liam disappear into a different direction to deal with the urgency to have a wee. 

In the ensuring quiet as three depart Harry takes note of the same thing that he did noted on a prior weekend he where and Louis spent time at Will's cabin. Will used the long barrel rifle like a walking stick not a weapon. He left the company at the fire holding the barrel end of the weapon pointing up and tipped forward so if the rifle had fired it would shoot skyward. Harry was certain that Will had experience enough to allow him to draw the weapon up, if necessary, and fire it immediately with amazing proficiency. Afterall Will was certainly a person who learned things well and, more importantly, how to do them right.

The weapon probably was an extra precaution, Harry thinks about this as he watches Will disappear from sight. His thoughts turn to thinking about how easily Will was misunderstood. Harry wonders how many in the surrounding community actually knew the old man was a homosexual? Kyla did. Of that Harry was certain. But did anyone know that Will still mourned his deceased lover? Even now among them it was only Harry who knew that Will was heading to his sleeping bag but in reality there was so much more to it. This want only about their being here at a retreat, staged as a cattle drive. Harry was turning over countless questions, mysteries, in his thoughts. He wondered again what happened to Francie. Did it happen up here? Were there things to fear in these woods? Certainly precautions were taken, like food cashed tied high up safely away from bears, but what of the mystery of what happened to Francie? That troubled Harry. 

***

Liam and Niall came back to the fire. Niall settles down to sit beside Zayn with Liam taking the other side of him.

Picking up the ukulele, Niall turns to Louis who still looks shell-shocked from the kissing. He is no longer reclining back onto Harry, which earlier, seemed Louis' ordained, natural state of being. Instead Louis sits very close to the fire, on his knees. His feet are behind him as he is positioned there sitting with folded legs. He is playing with the fire. Focusing on it intently. One could sense something in that kiss had taken him somewhere. Maybe, dare say it tamed him in some way. At least he looked to the others to be somewhat that way. It was unusual for Louis, tamed, so it was notable. 

Strumming softly Niall sings. He can finally recall the one song from earlier he'd that he had been trying to remember. Confident of it he sings, "Down to Earth,  
Keep on falling when I know it hurts,  
Going faster than a million miles an hour,  
Tryna catch my breath some way, somehow.  
Down to Earth,  
It's like I'm frozen, but the world still turns,  
Stuck in motion, but the wheels keep spinning 'round,  
Moving in reverse with no way out."

Zayn looks very in tune to the meaning that forming in the song. Something of their experiences in the fringe of the heavens, high in the mountains, is so inspiring. Niall plays another bit again and again with no words until Zayn is compelled to supply them. He directs his words to Liam. 

"And now I'm one step closer to being  
Two steps far from you,  
When everybody wants you,  
Everybody wants you."

After Zayn's part there is quiet again accept Niall's playing on the strings. All seem to seek words to fill the void in their story. Harry looks at them anticipating their answer to Zayn in turn. He can easily see their faces, well except Louis'. Louis is still seated in front of the fire, back to Harry playing with the fire by feeding the flames small twigs. It seems everyone of them is mute. 

Without knowing where they came from words pour from Harry in keeping with their cosmic theme, "How many nights does it take to count the stars?  
That's the time it would take to fix my heart.  
Oh, baby, I [am here*] for you  
All I ever wanted was the truth, yeah, yeah.  
How many nights have you wished someone would stay?  
Lie awake only hoping they're okay,  
I never counted all of mine.  
If I tried, I know it would feel like infinity  
Infinity, infinity, yeah  
Infinity"  


There is a change to Louis' posture when he hears Harry's voice. The words resonated with him. He slowly turns to Harry. He hovers back not moving just inspecting Harry. Did he hear what he thought? Was there something about Harry's heart said, referred to, in the song? 

So Harry reads Louis' perplexed expression, he sings the words again not waiting for Niall. The depth to which Harry so desperately wants Louis to open up, Louis, so free sexually but so withholding the truth about himself, Harry sing to that depth to try to convey his need of truth from Louis. This time Harry is joined by the others. They like his words that is all there is too it simply for them. They liked them, not because they understood another meaning. The impact of their combined voices overwhelmes Louis. 

All but Louis are singing. 

"How many nights does it take to count the stars?  
That's the time it would take to fix my heart  
Oh, baby, I [am here*] for you  
All I ever wanted was the truth, yeah, yeah..."

Harry drops off from the repeating the rest of the words. The other three continue to sing them in a loop using his "infinity". Zayn even throws in some amazing vocal rifts of high notes. As they play with their vocal harmonies Louis walks on his knees over to Harry. 

Coming between Harry's spread legs, Louis threads his arms around Harry. Harry embraces Louis back. Their full body contact is as complete as it can be. Each inhales the scent of the other and for Louis his face is buried in that silken mane of Harry's. The fullness of curls muffles his voice but Harry hears Louis with ease. It is what Harry is waiting to hear. 

"M'going to tell you Curly, I promise. Maybe just can we wait until we get back to the ranch? Maybe can we just be, this, for now." 

Louis pulls back and the two are close still keeping hands on the other. Each stares into the other's eyes for an answer. Louis eyes ask. Plead.


	45. Bambi and Simba

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A snippet of One Direction's "If I Could Fly" off Made in the AM is credited here where lsong lyrics appear in dialogue between Harry's and Louis. That song might be reinvented later in this story by fake-Harry. The theme of this chapter is Harry's fearing for giving his heart; Louis is holding back downpaying his so-called "crime" and there is a scattering of Disney references because Typos is weird. This is how I write fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, made this section cut right before the smut to trade a quicker, short, update. Sorry, have to go skiing because my riding lessons cancelled..not able to get a longer more complete update when there is powder in the mountains, so promised smut follows next./soon. It's likely to be vulgar so hope you like this cute counterbalance. (I totally throw straight 1D into really not fair positions! Literally)
> 
> The images of Harry as Bambi or Tarzan, (Little Mermaid), amuse me. This is a tip of the hat to those tumblr bloggers who make such inspiring gifs. Also the suggestions referencing their tattoos is more imagery, the type of thing that I would love to think takes some of us away from management stress and to happier places. It's fiction, I thanks and apologize to the real people, but let's hope the fantasy of their love is not fiction.

Their stares deepen. Harry and Louis look into the eyes of each other searching. Behind them Zayn, Niall and Liam are talking quietly among themselves, oblivious to everything outside their perfect trifecta. 

Louis extends a hand toward Harry. And like the very first up the trial in the mountain meadow after Kyla sent Harry to look for Louis, he locked a finger in Harry's curls with a deft twist. He makes a coil with hair twisting around his finger through a loop that Harry's hair naturally forms. He giggles. 

"Harry your ridiculous curls do this thing every time. It's like they make an eternity knot around me finger. If I was ever to get a tattoo, it would be that, so I could see it inked in my skin everyday, even if we were apart, something of you on my body as some reminder of your gorgeous hair, your curls."

Harry hestiates to respond to this playfulness mixed with depth. It surprises him so he calculates. 

His heart. Harry's heart. Risking it always hangs in the balance. He loves Louis; this he knows. Is just the risk. Risk. Always the risk to himself. 

Louis again runs his fingers through Harry's hair. He twists a lock of it around one finger, pulls away and pretends as if all of this is a surprising and miraculous thing like Harry's hair has some innate magic ability to to do this on its own. 

Impulsiveness overwhelms Harry. Harry grabs Louis' hand to stop another repeat of playing with his curls. Right now for Harry he doesn't want Louis to play with his hair. An obsession, a kink, whatever it is about his hair to Louis, for Harry this is badly timed. He needs Louis to seriously focus. For just a minute Harry wants to meaningfully talk. Can he wait like Louis asked until they are back to the ranch? Not really an option. Wanting to persuade Louis, Harry snaps. 

"Louis. Pay attention! I... I hope that you listen cause I let my guard down, right now I'm completely defenseless." Harry says. * 

He looks over Louis to see if the other three are watching them because he realizes the sharpness in his voice, the tone of desperation he's brought. Also Harry knows he's come across as very, very servere to Louis because Louis jerks his hand away like Harry's action was a little bit too harsh. 

Harry has never hurt anyone before, it's not in him, at least not to hurt someone physically. It's all emotional angst and following that Harry plays at. Harry's most particularly not capable of hurting Louis, even though during sex Louis pushed the edge and pleaded impatiently for Harry to do so. For some reason though Harry only this instant realizes as he was beginning to speak about his penned up emotions that he was too forcefully taking Louis' hand accidentally in a pain-causing grip. 

Harry calms himself. He takes a breath and runs his owns hands through his hair. Shaking his hair out and flipping it back; when he looks at Louis again he is composed. Or he wants to believe he can be. A quick check that the other three are indeed still in their little world snug tight on the other side of the fire oblivious to he and Louis, Harry speaks leaning into brush his lips on the curve of Louis' ear. 

Whispering, Harry says, "For your eyes only, I'll show you my heart..."*

What was to come next from him, Harry wasn't sure. Harry's pause becomes Louis' opening. Louis is compelled to ease Harry's obvious burden. 

"I've got scars Harry, even though they can't always be seen. And pain gets hard, but now you're here and I don't feel a thing. I hope," Louis says, pauses, looks away, resigns himself and adds, "I hope...you don't run from me."*  


"You hope? You hope, what? That I don't run from you? So you're avoiding revealing things because you think I'll find your scars too unattractive? You're asking me to let you in, can't you do the same?" 

"It's not the same, Harry. I know what you've done to me, my feelings for you. You struck me like a bolt of lightning when our eyes met the first time. And I know why you're here. I know how you pray sexually on people to destroy them, like with Liam, and I don't care. You're not hurting me and more importantly you are not damaged to me, your exploits are not your scars. For you they are a shield, something to keep love away." 

Harry almost begins to tell Louis about his one true love, but he feels eyes upon them. 

Sure enough the other three are watching them. Zayn, Liam and Niall look like they want to interrupt but are holding off. What was it? 

"What are you looking at?" Harry asks. 

"We're waiting for a sign we can interrupt things, so, before we can go to sleep." Liam says. His statement gets a snort of laughter from Louis because the three look very cozy and not at all like sleep is what they will do the instant that they are inside their tent. Niall is practically on Liam's lap with Zayn on his other side it looks like Niall is the creamy center of an Oreo as they are so wedged together as one. All of them look like they have lust in their eyes. Not sleepiness. 

"Go on then." Harry says. 

Liam's daddy quality, his ranch-hand sensibility, drives his point of view. "Not going to leave you two with putting put the fire out alone. Too important. Are you, um, done out here? Must be well after midnight..." 

With that the trifecta breaks up and they begin to gather some pans that were used earlier for cooking. Zayn produces a pair of head lamps and he and Niall get some water from the lake. Liam explains to Louis, the newest to the west, how dangerous wild fires are in the region. A naturally occurring force, they are part of the ecosystem, but as human caused, like by unattended camp fires, they are unwelcome, senseless destruction. Liam goes into a narration that sounds a lot like Will, Liam, like Will acting is the way many cowboys do. A man who works alone, often days on end outdoors, seeing the world from the back of a horse, there is a need to learn about the natural world. A need by progression to care of it. The latter requires the former. 

Liam is deep in discussion of the effects of fire ecology of the west as Niall and Zayn pour pail after pail of water on the flames. Even after the fire seems out they turn the coals, making certain that the former fire is diminished to a point that even the ground reveals no residual sensation of heat. 

By the time Zayn and Niall are certain the job is done Liam has gone deep into ecology. "...so if tree is the type that has serotonious cones, those trees are dependent on fires for germination, like the Lodgepole pine that grows here." Liam's dissertation comes to a stop. He realizes Harry is bracing Louis from behind and wrapping Louis into his chest which gives Liam the first idea how much he strayed into deeply intellectual concepts that are preventing them all from getting to what they want to do in their tents. But he sees that Louis looks frightened a little, even though the only light is two headlamps and the moon. 

"I'm sorry Louis, am I scaring you?" 

"Yeah actually, Liam you are. All I can think of now is this image of Harry fleeing wild fires. It's terrifying. You said lightning causes natural fires now all I can think about that is storm that night we went to find Niall. It could happened again tonight...and Harrycould be trapped by a forest fire." 

It was a leap so random, like only Louis can be. Everyone shook their heads with disbelief. Harry pulls his body tighter against Louis'. Niall laughs his typical nervous laugh. Zayn fingers his cigarettes in his pocket and resists the urge to smoke as they wait for Louis to explain this one to them because they are certain this will be entertaining. 

"Harry fleeing forest fires? Just Harry. I don't follow. What ever are you talking about Louis?" 

Louis put a hand up to reach behind him for Harry as three others stand waiting with great anticipation. 

"Well it's obvious. Haven't you all noticed how Harry is like this long-legged Bambi the way he moves. You know, Bambi gets trapped in the forest, his mom dies. Don't tell me you've never noticed the Bambi-Harry thing. He's all legs and sometimes they don't seem to do what he wants them to." He waits for the concept to sink in. Everyone stares blankly. "You know, like Bambi on ice, surely you've noticed this?" 

With the exception of Louis, they erupt into laughter. Even Harry lets go of Louis. He gets to his knees and wraps arms around Louis, burying his face in Louis concealing his laughter. Louis seems surprised that his logic is not reinforced by his mates but Harry recovers from his fit of laughter and pulls himself up and brings Louis's into him again such that they are facing each other. 

Cupping Louis in his hands, peppering Louis' lips, cheeks, tip of nose, forehead with kisses he mumbles comfort, "M'sorry Louis, might be true that I skip around sometimes like an idiot, but I'm no Bambi. Least not likely to get myself trapped in a forest fire. I'm a little Tarzan in me too you know. Who was it, after all, that rescued you and Sweetie in that mud slide?" 

The other three gathered their composure from the hysterics of an image of Harry as Bambi. Patting Harry on the back as they said goodnight. Zayn hands Harry his headlamp. Liam says he's going to make a quick, pre-bed check of the horses. It's obvious the underlining suggestion is that Harry is on his own to address the challenge of making sense of Louis. 

Zayn and Niall disappear into their tent. The light from their head lamp illuminates the tent such that their silhouettes are visible. They are quick to embrace. Liam is heard off by the horses softly speaking to them. It seems the regatta is secure. 

With Harry and Louis standing alone in the moonlight it hardly seems that they need to use the remaining lamp. Harry sighs a contentment from the amusing way this pixie's mind works. It is so unusual. So adorable, like how Louis thinks Harry is a Bambi. 

"Bambi? Maybe stag Bambi Louis, but not little splayed-legs Bambi." 

Louis returns Harry's caresses with his own. Fingers, as always, find curls. They also brush over skin, lips and convey in their gentleness how much Louis cherishes touching Harry. 

A few soft kisses get exchanged and Harry thinks of something more to add. "You know you have a animal icon too, Louis. You're like a Simba. Not full grown Simba but the little, sassy, one who thinks he's all tough but he gets into trouble. You even fell into a ravine like he did." 

Louis mumbles into Harry's neck, "M'okay with that. I read once that when lions mate they do it like over and over and over again. Something like fifty times in a day. I'm totally good with that." Louis pulls back and leads Harry with him maintaining his hands holding Harry's as he backs toward their tent. Liam passes them whispering goodnight but they never stop gazing into each other's eyes as they acknowledge his salutation. Once his tent is zipped behind Liam, Louis adds, "So let's see how many times my stag can pull off in one night."


	46. Tents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boys being boys in different tents. Basically just alternating passages of smut.

After finishing with checking the horses Liam slips quietly into the tent. He discovers Niall and Zayn began "things" without him.

Zayn was on his back with Niall over him, legs straddling Zayn's head. Zayn's hands are holding onto Niall's thighs, gripping them tightly. Even with only hearing the noises Zayn is making it is evident that Zayn is eating Niall out. Niall's smile greeting Liam is a blended blush of pleasure mixing with guilt. His overt arousal is evident too because his dick is hard. Niall is holding it in his hand. It can't be denied how much Niall is enjoying Zayn's efforts.

And yet for Liam to see Niall's blushing response over being so discovered makes for this being all the more adorably cute. A faint light of a headlamp that is tucked into a keeper at the roof of the tent is the only illumination. And the thing between Niall and Zayn? Is this such a bad thing? 

No. How could it be? Niall's dick is stiff already, and so, so tempting. The noises coming from Zayn? He is clearly working Niall's hole with his tongue which sounded, despite attempts to be quiet, insidiously seductive to the late-comer.

Liam smiles at reassuringly at Niall and begins to undress.

As Liam strips off clothing he scans their forms and makes a plan. What to do first? Where to join in? So many options, he thinks to himself. He's embarrassed to admit, but some part of him likes that Harry taught him some tricks.

***

Entering the other tent Harry and Louis have a new awkwardness, a sort of first-time nervousness to their movements. Their hands are restlessly touching each other and a little uncertain. Neither is saying a word. Fondness, shyness, a pause hangs in the air.

Anticipation.

Harry places the headlamp into the keeper at the top of the tent so a soft light illuminates their little space. They are fortunate that Zayn spent some of his daylight hours getting things ready in their tent for them, probably doing this kindness while they soaked in the hot springs. Zayn had neatly laid out their sleeping bags and was even thoughtful enough to zip two bags together making them as one. Closing the tent behind them Harry is quick to take the lead.

Harry takes Louis in both hands directing Louis down onto his back on top of the sleeping bags. Not saying a word Harry maintains eye contact speaking through them. Louis' eyes appear darken with his pupils wide. His want for Harry is evident even though a tiny smile is suppressed ever so slightly because this unprecedented new state of mutual nervousness. 

This look of desire from Louis as he lets Harry lay him back gives Harry a momentary flashback recalling the paralyzingly anxiety Louis typically created in him early, just until a week ago. It was before Harry learned that his loss of breath, his sudden alarmingly rapid heart beat was all, well, because of Louis. Harry's heart was already gone before his brain had caught the up to the idea of it. 

Harry's flashback helps him be mindful of the reason of such visceral anxiety, it helps to keep Harry balanced. If he is to stay ahead of Louis' effect on him Harry believes he can make love to Louis like he has a love that consumes him, a lover's elation, a wholeness again. And for the first time since his heart was broken Harry is thinking he can be positive like when he was a child. Harry realizes that he needs a place to focus this and nurture this emotional rebirth within him.

The impossibly beautiful nymph laying back smiling up at him with palpable want was the the cause, the effect and raison d'etre. 

Harry strips the clothes off Louis slowly. Louis seems entranced by Harry's gentle lead. He isn't voicing his opinions or needs. They are being so quiet. This is something particulalry unusual, not at all the Louis that Harry knows. Usually Louis is hard to shut up, demanding for dick, being slutty to the core to dominate Harry. Now with Louis layered in so many of Harry's clothes that are too big on him, Harry removes each piece methodically and deliberately. Harry is enjoying knowing that the clothes will have Louis' smell on them for days to come when they eventfully return to the ranch. 

Harry kisses new areas of skin as they become exposed. Louis doesn't respond with recirocal actions, not after Harry pushes Louis' hands away the very first time Louis tries to get ahold of Harry, small hands going for curls like always. Well, it's either curls or cock, so it seems always with him. 

One whispered verbal reprimand to be patient and Louis is quite uncharacteristically placated. He stares up at Harry silent, faint suggestions of tears form in his eyes like he wants to relish this their love-making as much as Harry. The only other clue of Louis' will-relinquished is how Louis is biting his lower lip making it more red, perhaps a little swollen. That lip biting and some muted giggles are a lightness in contrast to his darkened eyes that say he is hungry for Harry. 

On the other occasions when Louis was naked the experience was often too intensely driven by Louis; Louis pushing them along, needy, slutty and demanding. Like the last time when Louis rode Harry with rigor and urgency while they were just up the hill supposedly collecting the horses. But this time, as Harry took care in revealing Louis' tight, little body Harry could only dream of how good this was going to feel because it was going to be so slow. All night, if Harry could make it. 

Harry put his lips on Louis' soft little tummy and weighed whether to kiss down a faint happy trail and use his mouth to make Louis' completely hard before he fucked him. Or maybe, Harry thought, he should slowly kiss up Louis ' torso starting from that soft belly until he went to rib-remarked torso, over breast and tiny nips, leaving marks on collarbones and neck, the underside of jaw. All as a preclude to thrusting his tongue into Louis' mouth. Give Louis preview of what his tongue would do if he ate Louis out.

Harry decides he would have to do just that. Maybe not so soon, but in time. 

With all of Louis' clothes removed, Harry begins kissing the soft puff of tummy. He makes it a point to suck deeply tickling on the soft flesh between waist and ribs. He makes his way over each rib one by one before taking a nipple with his teeth. He follows a soft bite with a soothing lick, then a suck. One quick glance down, Harry peaks to see if Louis is hard. Louis is. 

Harry moves up. He nuzzles the dip along the area above Louis' collarbone. He knows he shouldn't mark it so deeply that when they return to the ranch it will be evidence of folly, but he does. Harry sucks a bruise that he is certain will darken fast and linger long. He hopes that Nazir, particularly Nazir, will see it and know Louis was claimed and taken. The way Louis hisses and whispers "Currrly" stretched out long and soft, convinces him that it will be a lasting brand but Louis didn't protest it; he recovers and hums. The manner in which he speaks Harry's pet name with a neediness and an arching of his back through the pain is pleasing to Harry. As if Louis knows Harry couldn't be more pleased as Harry licks over the bruise to smooth it Louis giggles. And Harry's heart leaps.

***

Without desturbing Niall and Zayn, Liam slips beside Niall and places a hand on each of their bodies. It is warm inside the tent even with the cold air outside. The act of bodies heating with love-making does this to their enclosure. Liam's hands slide over their bodies and his touch suggests they continue. He wants to remain almost an observer. 

Soon though, Liam's hands get more adventurous because he sees how even his touch adds more excitement for the other two lads. Zayn becomes fully erect, stiffly pointing straight up. Once Liam touches Niall, Niall is soon beading up like the addition of Liam's hand on his body, cock or not is too much. Liam plays with their nipples, pinching each in turn, he kisses Niall but lets Zayn continue at his work only fueled by the sound of Liam kissing Niall. 

***

Consuming arousal gets the better of Harry. He finishes marking Louis' neck and the underside of his jawline and as he looks down at Louis, pulling up and away to hover and admire his work, he realizes he was so invested in getting into Louis' flawless skin that his own was still clothed except for his feet. 

Harry quickly strips off his clothes. Louis laughs at the speed that they are vanquished and is about to speak. As he reaches up brushing fingers across Harry's face and taking the back of Harry's neck like he's going to pull Harry down to him for a kiss, Harry halts this by pressing his fingers over Louis. His other hand takes Louis' hand in one of his larger ones to guide Louis' to return his arm and hand to his side. With Louis' actions arrested Harry resumes a lover's caress mixing in some soft presses like a non-verbal reminders for Louis to stay relaxed under his touch. Within seconds Louis yields, lets out a breath of resignation. He smiles up at Harry, takes a deep breath, returns to biting his lip only murmuring in a whisper, "Curly". It's clear that Louis wants to be active, but he's trying to let Harry have the lead. 

The erection which popped free from when Harry is undressed is extremely difficult for Louis' eyes to ignore. Harry gives his penis a few strokes with one hand before returning both hands to Louis. Touching Louis' soft perfect skin was foreplay enough to Harry; he was immediately aware that his election will not last if it is touched. His desire has to be ignored or Louis wins again. So Harry continues to rub Louis' body and works his hands slowly down, sliding under Louis' back. Running them along underneath Louis' body until he reaches the plump, round, bum. 

Harry sighs audibly with contentment at how this small boy's arse always fills his hands. He fondles it and parts it almost not able to believe even now, after multiple times experiencing this, that the luscious bum in his hands is really his to enjoy. 

Harry's closes his eyes and lifts Louis by the bum and turns him, "Roll over for me Low...Louis,". 

What was "Love" made into "low" then was made clear as "Louis". Harry wasn't sure how much longer he could keep catching these near falls into disclosure, but for now it passes by unnoticed. Louis is easily rolling over for Harry and Harry wants to quench himself with Louis. 

He parts Louis cheeks. Harry's breath catches. His throat is dry from his near misspoke made worse by the shock because he was still getting used to this. 

Louis is spectacular. 

A slight spread of cheeks by Harry's hands and there it is framed by them; a tiny, pink, tight hidden treasure. Waiting. Pristine for Harry to plunder. Didn't he just have Louis earlier? Why is this so consuming of his free will? 

Harry reflected. He knew about breathless from the effects of his own attributes. Among his lovers, or, actually conquests, none had ever been with Harry and not, in a moment of weakness, referred to him as a god with the inescapable "meant-for-sucking-cock-mouth". Never. Not once, not even if he was revealing the beginning darkness to him, of him becoming cruel as he used them. As Harry was twisting their emotions, shifting to breaking them as just a thing that he was playing with, none could resist his beauty like, by example, the perfection of his lips. And there was also his eyes, his dimples, his body in every sinful detail from his tiny bum to his endowed cock. So very many other little things he'd seduce people with. And yet. 

And yet as Harry pressed his perfect lips to Louis' little flower for a premiere kiss, he thought of how the two of them seemed like two halves of a whole, meant to come together. Beautify in different forms. Meant to be shared as one. 

*** 

With his tongue meeting Niall's which is a litmus of his arousal there is little need to visually detect the state of urgency that Niall is experiencing. Liam keeps his penetrating kisses filling Niall's mouth so the noises from them are not so loud as to wake others, though most likely it is only Will who is actually sleeping.

Liam makes a stretch so he can take Niall's weeping cock in one hand and Zayn's in another while still tongue-locked passionately kissing Niall. Taking Zayn's cock in hand reveals to Liam that Zayn has moved to pleasuring Niall with fingering; sure enough Niall breaks off the kiss, Liam's hand pumping his dick tips him over the edge and he begins to shout broken chants that he is coming.

Instantaneously Zayn was out from under him and embracing him from behind. Liam went to Niall's dick and took it into his mouth letting Zayn stabilize the blond lad as Liam went down on Niall. Zayn kisses him quiet as he stands behind Niall, both now on their knees, Zayn's chest is pressing into Niall's back as Niall twists around to receive the tender kiss from Zayn while Liam sits back wiping from his face of cum.

When Zayn's eyes meet his Liam, a nod is exchanged then Liam pulls Niall toward him. With Niall coming off his high laying on Liam's chest, Liam's legs sprawl to the side bracketing him, Zayn checks the appearance and tightness of Niall's hole. Fulfilled, Niall wiggles his bum at the tickling sensation of Zayn's fingers playfully asking whether his hole is properly readying for the taking. Zayn and Liam exchange looks as Liam nods again to tell Zayn, the position he's taking for supporting Niall is set and to get to the dicking if he thinks Niall is good to go. 

This is unspoken communication of partners who have done this before. Liam likes Zayn to enjoy Niall first, smaller than Liam, it is polite for both niall and Zayn. Furthermore, Liam gets hard watching Zayn fucking and usually if Niall is recovering he gets hungry for taking cock. Usually he sucks Liam off. Something Niall would say every time, "Louis says it's easier to surprises the gag reflect with a Monster cock if m'num is stuffed to distraction too." Bless Louis and his slutty advice, Liam thinks. 

Sure enough as Zayn is deep into Niall the Irish lad's fingers start to play with Liam's dick. Soon Liam is dripping hard and wanting to be down Niall's throat. Niall obliges. 

As Zayn's orgasm hits he lays his body over Niall's back. Niall is momentarily shocked by the seed filling him and he pops off Liam to encourage Zayn, reassure him, because Zayn forgot his condoms, this was okay. Niall's hands still support Liam's heavy, thick cock. Laying with it close it seems well presented. So for Zayn this was and opportunity. 

It was a stretch, Zayn being just a twitch taller than Niall, but Zayn was able with each bottom trust to fill Niall he was also straining to reach with open mouth and take the head of Liam cock. Muffling himself, he did his best to make his twisting, sucking, engulfing action arousing and to call to Liam. If Liam was ready, it was next man up.

*** 

Kisses gentle like the softest of snow gives way to greater lust. 

What began as little kisses on Louis' full bum is soon replaced by bites. Harry can't resist. Harry is quick with flicks of his tongue over Louis hole to distract Louis when Louis yelps with the pain of Harry's teeth harshly nipping his bum. The flicks are instantly met with Louis regaining his composure; he spreads his legs and lifts his bum more to an offering. Harry rewards him with broad swipes over Louis' opening. Louis mews. He tries to reach a hand back to find Harry's curls. 

Harry swats Louis ass hard, "No, Lov-wis, back, hands back up away from my work. I've got undoing to make of you." 

Harry hopes once again that his cover of nearly calling Louis "love" is masked. He makes sure with the setting of Louis' hands up near Louis' shoulders to emphasize that position is very important, like the placement Louis' hands matters greatly but not anything of what Louis might have heard. 

Confidant Louis is stationed properly for continued eating out, Harry returns to his task. He begins again. Sucking marks into the skin on the backs and inner thighs, Harry focuses. Harry licks into Louis. Louis nearly levitates from the touch of Harry's tongue as it makes a flicking action on his rim, then penetrates, returns to working with lips to suck the floral-like circle of skin which is beginning to quiver. Louis'wetness of skin against Harry's face which is pressed tight between cheeks is as much from sweat of their love-making as it is form Harry's saliva. This ass seems scaldingly hot, like the water venting into the thermal pool on the far side of the lake. 

So much heat and fire. Harry wants Louis to come without getting cock. Without fingers teasing prostrate. 

"The walls, um, your rim," Harry whispers to Louis as he pulls back briefly, "so deliciously fiery. The tightness on my tongue, your so small, and hot, yet quivering like a virgin eaten out for the first time. What are you to be so good for me like this?" 

Louis brake his silence and began to whisper pleading in his voice. "Yours Harry...." 

Louis finishes with a whimper. Then he says, "M, m-more." 

Louis hands reach around to find a handful of curls. He only barely manages to resist pulling. "Please, more..." 

Harry is so close to coming from this control he has pleasuring Louis with just his mouth. He knows if the head of his dick met this rim pushing in would make him fill Louis. He'd rather soil the sleeping bag underneath them and finish Louis like this than do that so soon. 

Licking deeper into Louis. Louis nearly levitates again from the touch of Harry's tongue as it alternates a flicking action on Louis' rim, then penetrates forcefully before returning to working in concert with Harry's perfect lips to suck the circle of skin. A noise breaks from Louis as the alert. 

Harry wants to see Louis' face as he cums like this, cumming without being fucked. He rolls Louis into twist than onto his back. Louis tries to bury his face in his arms and tries to silence himself. Harry laughs at this attempt to hide and lays his body over Louis' pinning Louis' hands up over his head. With no dick or even fingers inside him through the orgasm, Louis still comes powerfully and extended. Under Harry's weight Louis' back is still arching driven involuntarily because of what Harry did. This is something Harry never experienced with anyone before. The skin between them is separated only by the creamed cum that each spasm of Louis' cock sends between them with a funny tickle. 

This curious sensation is no match for the way Louis' face looks when his lips are parted for choked-back shouts partnered with fluttering of lush lashes. So beautiful. Harry wants to keep him in his heart. He wants to call him "love."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Accidental deletion sort of messed things up. Recovered as much as well as possible.
> 
> :(
> 
> 4/20 went for the edit. Again. Swear the rewrite is messed up but not sure where.


	47. Leo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In honor of "Home" by One Direction, this chapter is a continuation of smut-filled fantasy with Larry in one tent and ot3 in another. At their alpine lakeview camp there is also more refining of Harry's dilemma which is the enigma that is Louis. And there is some nice Lirry bonding that refreshes plot.

***

Sensations tickle Harry's skin like the tip of a tongue is brushing against his neck. That is followed by teeth rendering a nibbling bite to his earlobe and with that Harry realizes Louis is recovering. 

Harry is still laying with Louis directly under him. He begins peeling them apart as they are adhered together with glue-like jizz. Immediately both are laughing at themselves. Louis' hands reach for Harry's nipples and before Harry can swat them away he makes a face with the smeared cream; two eyes at nips, a smile beneath. It's so disgusting. Harry slaps his hand hard and yet Harry can't help but laugh again with a swell of love for this crazy, crazy boy with bizarre notions about art. 

"Ow" Louis says but his smile says the slap didn't hurt in he slightest. 

Harry purposefully does not touch any of himself anymore than he has to as he cleans them both with some unscented moist wipes. He ignores his own dick which is stilted straight between them. It is a warning of how easily he would erupt because even a passing cleansing swipe makes a large bead of precum ooze of his slit. 

Louis licks his lips and pretends Harry won't read his thoughts which are obvious. Harry is going to relish that he made his lover cum by eating him out. Empowered Harry believes maybe he can make Louis cum again, even so soon, if he instantly moves to bury his cock in Louis and pounds him just right.

Louis' prostrate will give more, Harry convinces himself that he knows this based past experience, and besides, Louis' reference to fucking like lions is a challenge. Harry wants to win this time. He wants them to be like that. Louis his tiny lion. The study of the stars earlier makes him think of the constellation Leo in the sky, maybe he could give Louis an orgasm so stellar that it sends him to the stars like in mythology, like with a tattoo, something of his lover branded in the sky forever. 

Sure enough while Harry is cleaning them off he reaches under Louis and is able to push a single finger through Louis' tight rim. Louis' body is is still so tight. Harry's tongue was no match. Harry hestitates. 

***

Liam is deeply in buried Niall and although Niall came in ropes with moans of pleasure there is the worry that there is just too much Liam in Niall at this point after so much Zayn with Niall. Nevertheless Liam is still feeling fearful like he can't let himself loose. Fear of hurting Niall keeps his orgasm evasive. 

Zayn had switched to be in a support role, as was usually the case, as Niall went to hands and knees. While Liam was pounding into Niall, Zayn was mostly preoccupied running his hands over skin, both of theirs, and giving them such lovely descriptions of how good they looked together like this. 

Out of the corner of Liam's eye he saw Zayn was aroused again. Niall would have a busy night if he wanted it. 

As Liam holds back not wanting to come inside Niall, his need to let go must be registering in the touches of hand. Zayn's hand on Liam took an unprecedented change of direction. 

First, Liam notes it changes from a hot touch to a sensation of hot and newly wet. Not clammy-wet like it could be from running over Liam's sweaty back, but, very wet. Like slick with lube. 

Then Liam felt it. 

Zayn's fingers are slipping inbetween Liam's cheeks. Liam's breath catches because he realizes that it feels erotically magical which is an unprecedented response. Like, wow, this is really surprisingly nice. 

Then, with out warning, Zayn pushes one finger on dead center of Liam's hole like suggesting he wants entry. Liam isn't sure, he thinks he may have he nodded, maybe yes, maybe not. 

And then Zayn says, "Sshhh" and puts more pressure there. He waits. Then more. 

As soon as Liam feels the digit slip in pushing past the restraint of the muscles of his hole Liam begins to cum inside Niall. P o w e r f u l l y. Liam completely forgets he wanted to be cautious with Niall. "Shhh, he can take it" Zayn whispers assuringly to him. And so Liam lets go of his worry. His body feels complete, completely satiated deep inside Niall's body and releasing phis seed triggered by single finger inserted deep in his virgin hole.

***

There is laughter between them as soon as Louis sees Harry's hesitation. Louis is eyeing Harry's dick and looking more hungry for it than when they started. Something about his blown pupils and sex-tinted skin. Harry's certain of his appearance, but from the way Louis laughs at him he can tell that his need must have made him look as wrecked than Louis', despite abstaining. Or maybe it's because of the abstaining. Harry is hard. Still wanting badly more for himself but, for maybe the first time with Louis, Harry is not falling victim to Louis' dominance.

Harry wants to enjoy this. Unlike all the other times Harry wants to control how, what pace to take this slow and do everything he can with Louis with a tenderness that expresses words his heart fears Louis knowing should Harry's lips accidentally release them.

"So you like what you've done to me?" Harry asks.

"Not as much as you're going to like..." What is coming next doesn't leave Louis' lips. Harry kisses them. When they kiss he knows Louis gets a taste of himself with it. In attempt to placate Louis' naughty side Harry made this a conscious decision.

"No Louis there is much more yet to do to you." Harry says then kisses Louis more deeply. He lays onto Louis again so his raging erection is pressed between them. Successfully circumventing what Louis was going to say Harry takes the distraction as a chance to kiss some skin on Louis' neck, his shoulders, his pronounced cheekbones. 

Louis sighs. Hands that were sweeping over Harry's back and biting barely-there nails into skin fall away as a sign that Louis yields. This is uncharacteristic, so Harry is wary.

"M'gonna slide into you now Louis, but m'gonna do this real slow and nice. Gonna fuck you in long, rhythmic strokes and make you hard again. Don't care if it takes all night. You can be a good boy for me baby, hum? Let me fuck you long and slow. Make your pretty cock hard again, hum?"

Louis is immediatly biting his lips again and nodding his head a rapid "yes". His eyes are wide open. He is fixed on Harry's eyes but Harry is quick brush off the urge to stare into Louis' eyes.

It's a protective strategy. A ruminant of protecting his heart for so long. Now that Harry knows his love is evident, at every turn his mouth wants to betray him by saying what his brain thinks, what his heart feels...so for his safety he brushed off the call from Louis' gaze. Protectively he focuses on positioning himself in a push-up hovering over Louis. He rubs his stiff dick against Louis under him. Louis reaches for Harry's dick like he was going to help bring it to his hole and with a deft use of strength Harry keeps himself tripod end over Louis and swats Louis' hand away. He does that once again even when Louis reaches for himself.

"No. Don't put me in. Let me do it. Don't touch yourself yet either. You can touch your pretty little cock once I'm inside you, not before."

Dare he tell Louis that one touch of Louis' small hand taking ahold of his member would make him come? No. So Harry preys that Louis will obey. Sassy, dominant bottom, cock slut Louis...obey. 

Harry lets his gaze travel as his pushes his dick over skin and resist entering Louis quickly. He likes how Louis is shaved. He appreciates the divots where thighs meet pelvis, the way Louis' pelvis bones frame his reforming erection as it lays to one side traveling parallel to the faint, unremoved happy trail. Every rib of Louis is discernible. His nips are tiny and yet red and pert from earlier stimulation. Louis is in a word "perfect" to Harry. 

Harry makes it as far as a rapid glance passing collarbones and he stops at cheekbones because it's then, there, that Louis' focus on getting Harry inside him is felt without Harry hearing it. Louis wants him; his breath is rapid from want and determined giving into submission according to Harry's command. This sublime and uncharacteristic yield to Harry's will is so intoxicating that Harry fears he could come just from pushing the head of his dick alone into Louis so he does the unexpected.

Harry drops beside Louis who is starting to say a "Wh-" word, Harry puts a hand over Louis' mouth. The fingers of his other hand find Louis' opening. Harry twist one didn't in through the tight wall of muscles and Louis hisses. Harry keeps his hand over Louis' mouth and Louis squirms with more twists of Harry's fingertip tormenting him.

Louis wants Harry so bad. Gagged by one hand over his mouth, a vulnerable pity in his eyes is almost sickening except that Harry knows the feeling. He is so close to coming himself even though he is still completely untouched; its just from this, all of this, what he is doing to Louis. 

Harry pulls out one and adds two. He knows Louis is going to focus on getting dick inside him so he keeps Louis' mouth muzzled, brushing off again the sensation that his own dick is painfully demanding like it could burst, Harry finds it within himself to focus on scissoring and twisting fingers within his rything lover. 

Louis shivers and his eyelashes flutter. He seemed to need air because he gets a glazed look in his eyes so Harry moves his hand from Louis' face but cradles the astonishly delicate jaw. Some small rocking moves from Louis' hips suggest he's beyond fighting; he wants to grind onto Harry's long fingers so Harry makes what was two three and Louis chokes-back-a-gasp. 

That was all it took. Quickly Harry lifts up coming along side Louis while on his knees keeping his buried fingers actively brushing tissue deep in his love while positioning his pelvis so his dick is laying across Louis' face. He keeps the hand that was on Louis' jaw there as Louis' lips part lazily like he's drugged. Harry guides his slipping bewteen Louis' lips by his hold on Louis as watches as Louis take inch by inch of him. Seeing his cock go deep as Louis can manage, Louis sucking him off dazed, but hungrily, Harry lets his head fall back, eyes closed and he releases. Louis swallows. 

The guttural sound of himself, attempting to be quietly or not, makes Harry blurred about all else because his brain is awash of comprehending how good his long-restrained orgasm feels. Full consciousness becomes restored when Harry senses Louis' clenching in pulses on his fingers as Louis comes too. Harry opens his eyes and looks back down at Louis. Louis is visibly determined and yet blissed out. He still is actively servicing cock in his pretty mouth and this is twice that Harry has made him cum. And Harry hasn't even fucked him yet. 

When Harry feels Louis has milked him of every last drop, it's boardlerline painful, he pulls away from Louis. Louis' gaze travels with Harry but aside from that he seems incapable of any motion. He looks taken, dazed, pleasure defined. Harry knows this is kitten ready for a post-coital nap. 

"You think that is that?" Harry asks of his kitten. 

Louis eyes widen. His lips part. Nothing comes out. 

Shifting back over Louis to properly line their bodies together, Harry gets between Louis' legs. He parts one thigh wide and lifts it. Tired kitten or not, Harry moves to take entry. Louis' hole is worked and ready. Harry can slide in him with ease. "You see Lov-wis, my taking time for you makes me need more, so I'm not finished." 

Indeed after Harry watched as Louis swallowed every drop he fed the small lad his body felt like a lot more was in him. Looking at the wreck he made of his lover after Harry waited for so long gave him a new endurance Harry needed. So with a semi-hard dick Harry pushes into Louis. Feeling Louis' wall's, their hot embrace, makes each subsequent thrust into Louis an asset to quickening Harry's strength. 

Every inward stroke makes Harry feel harder, fatter, better, like he is edging. Combined with that his lover cooes and mumbles. Louis catches his breath in pants. Things are said by Louis between unintelligible noises induced by Harry's trusts. Things like "sinful body", "full lips", "amazing hands" and of course something about "curls". There is a lot of "fuck, fuck, fucks" but they often come out of Louis' mouth in a slur sounding more like "fookfookfoook" or complete gibberish. Louis barely moves. He just takes it. 

Protectively Harry watches for signs that Louis was still with him. Often when he bottoms out deep he feels that Louis fades like Louis is falling into darkness, but once Harry pulls back a little Louis is also back in reality with him. 

As the slow build of a deep burning orgasm slips over Harry taking him to altered consciousness he collapses on Louis. He feels a tiny offering of cum pool between them where Louis penis is pressed between theor sweaty bodies. Harry lets himself drift like into sleep aided by the sound like one of them is almost purring. He might hear the words whispered near his ear, "feel it in your heart."

*** 

There is a hint of waking. Like consciousness is nearing. As if this is a cue there is an echoing sound in the distance. It is long, bittersweet, eerie and beautiful in its longing song. Harry lifts his head to hear better. 

Louis body is entwined with his. The sudden waking jerk from Harry's doesn't make Louis stir even a little. If he were not so soft and warm it could be said Louis is lifeless, but Harry knows his lover is just well-fucked-exhausted. 

Harry is about to drop his head back to cuddle when he hears the sound again. This time he's certain its outside and not some dream because the quality of the sound gives a dream-like sense to his brain. But then he hears the tent zippers of the other lads' shelter and he knows they woke with the noise too. 

It hasty sound from the neighboring tent like a scramble to get thorough the interior opening and the secondary zipper on the tent flap for a quick exit. Maybe the strange sound was drawling them outside to investigate, but hearing their hushed voices Harry realizes it the urgency to have a wee that has brought them out in the dark. It sounds comical. Like the three might be an entangled mess. Harry can only imagine. 

"Go, go, go on then!" 

"What was that though?" 

"Doow-know, just, get, go. M'not going to let anything get you Niall." 

Harry can tell this is Liam and Niall awakened and talking. He orients listening to them and it seems like the strange call was coming from the lake on further consideration. But now he only hears the two who, despite trying to be so quiet, sound like a herd of rhinos once they are out of their tent maybe to go pee. 

Sure enough, they pee. Even that sound can be heard as loud in this stillness of wilderness. Niall is whispering about the moon. Liam is hushing him. Harry thinks he hears Liam say it will be sunrise soon. 

It sounds like they go back to the tent and only Niall goes back inside. Then, confirming it, Harry hears Liam speak in a very hushed voice. "You know Zayn needs a cuddle and he's not a morning person. So you get in there with him. I'm going to wait out here for the morning sunrise? Once it's lightening up I'll get a fire going so when you get up later we can have coffee and some breakfast. Cook fire coals don't happen in a instant, you know. Go on, Ni, back to bed, back to Zayn."

Harry waits until he hears Niall is settled inside their tent then he stirs slowly. He doesn't want to wake Louis, but the sound of peeing makes him very aware he needs to urinate too. Louis moves a little when Harry pulls away, and he mumbles something. Harry can't tell what it is so he presses his lips to an exposed cheebone and says, "Sshh, sleep little one. It's so dark out. Sleepy time." 

Unzipping the tent quietly is easy for Harry but the wave of cold air beyond their tent is shocking. He grabs a jumper before he goes fully out into the cold zipping the tent behind him and pulling on a top and his pants. 

In a word it's otherworldly outside the tent just before dawn so high in the wilderness with no human lights or sounds anywhere to be felt. Liam is standing by the lake where Harry joins him after he takes his wee. For several minutes neither speaks they just nod a greeting. Harry wishes he had something on his feet but he decides he has to make do. 

The tallest mountain peaks are demarked clearly in the distance because a hint of snow was newly placed on their caps sometime during the night. Just a hint is snow from appearances, but it's surprising because the daytime temperature when they left Bar 3 the previous day had reached 96F. Harry never heard the sound of rain, but then the mountain caps were another 300 or so meters higher than their location. The surprise of mountain tip snow is not the only marvel at this hour. The sky is still brilliantly glimmering with too many stars to ever count. The moon has journeyed and is now low on the opposite horizon from where it appeared when they saw it rise. It is casts a light that makes the lake appear to have a glow of its own. The effect of all these elements is invigorating. 

Refreshed by the cold air, drinking in the beauty for several minutes in silence, Harry and Liam only exchange smiles as Liam moves to sit, Harry going beside him, where the previous night's fire circle waits cold for another use. Then, after some glancing, silent exchanges in quiet of moonlight, they get a hint of the sun. There is a break in the dark on the horizon, opposite of the moon's position. It's only a hint, but there is a sliver of red to the line where earth meets sky. 

Liam and Harry both huddle and shiver near the firecircle certain that they are in for a show. They sit shivering a little. They watch in silence and what soon becomes awe.

The razor of red, deeply infused with transitioning shades of berry, begins to bolden. It soon the rising is casting red to the scattering of clouds, which are few, but nevertheless they bring some of dawn's first color across the sky as the stars fade from the heavens and the red is reflected off small movements of water in the lake. Within minutes the hints of fuchsia yield to shades of corrals. Clouds now reflect a fiery color and on their edges they radiate oranges and golds. Some clouds more distant have a deep lavender and hues of softer pink. The stars are all gone but Venus and the moon hang on in the west across from the sun's herald to the east. Both are very low on the horizon, but they are clear and stark against the sky almost like an artist had painted them on what is becoming true blue in their background. 

Each incremental rise of the sun brings a new palatte of color around its wake. Pjs eventually predominates and the sun itself seems to find it natural amber color as it continues its' climb. Again the clouds are transformed. They show each ripple in variation of moisture as a variation between peachy gold and silver. And it is when they reach this brilliance as the sun is nearly fully clear of the horizon that the snow capped peaks finally look white and not a reflection of the array of changes which through the entire sunrise was its nature, like the waters on the lake. 

"Wow." Harry says lacking better words. 

Liam pushes some ash around with a foot like he's contemplating a fire. He replies in time but without urgency. "Yeah. Right? I've never told anyone this before, didn't want to come off girly, but one reason I like going out and working the jobs gone all day repairing fence is I have be up really early. Every day if it's not cloudy here it's like a different show at sunrise. It never gets old to see. Some days it's more purple, some days it's like the sun just crashes the landscape in a bath of gold. Any changes in the cloud cover and it's a different sunrise than the day before. Being outside and seeing it makes me feel glad to be alive." 

Liam pauses. Harry sees on his face the impact of what Liam is talking about. "I'm not sure if I hadn't come here I'd be able to ever feel that way Harry. Before..." 

Tears well in Liam's eyes. One tear makes its break and he's quick to wipe it away clearly embarrassed but intent upon this confidence of his sharing with Harry, his former nemesis. "Before this, I hated myself. That's why I was so brutal and violent with people. I wanted to hurt them with my fists, because I couldn't see beauty in life. I wasn't allowed to. Things that attracted me, like some other...guy, were wrong to see as beautiful. The thoughts I had about how another boy's lips might feel were wrong, I was taught. It couldn't be good. It couldn't be love. It was against nature." 

Harry took Liam's pause as that, just a pause. He didn't rush to speak he just listened marveling at how this had happened. Liam, his long standing victim for his own self-loathing was his trusted friend. Revealing his heart, his pain. And Liam continued on. 

"But now I can watch the sunrises or the sunsets and I see they are all different. And that's nature. And so is beauty. And love. And that's nature too. It's not wrong to be gay, or straight, or whatever. It's just different shades of normal. Each is beautiful if felt without malice." 

It was quiet between them again. A long silence. Liam begins putting some of the small pieces of kindling on the ashes like preparing for the base to begin a fire. Harry thinks more about Liam's transformation. How much it was pain in both of them which made them do all that they regret. He realizes suddenly that he feels warmer, not because of the fire though and he wonders if the sun peeking up in the sky makes that big of a difference, which likely it did, or maybe it is the comfort in what Liam is saying. 

"So. Now you have this new view of things and two lovers. How is that working for your someday-plans Liam?" 

Liam laughs. His laugh is organic and full of mirth. His entire face scrunches with crinkles of laughter and he is free. "I know, right? Can you see it? Not only 'Mum and Dad, may I introduce my boyfriend', but more likely 'Mum and Dad, may I introduce my b o y f r i e n d s!' Emphasis on boy-friends." 

After they both laugh about this, Liam lights the kindling. 

"Liam, my father hates that I'm gay too. He just doesn't know what to say about it because my mum and my older sister are so accepting. I thinks he treats my actions as a phase, because he knows I top, usually, that is. Present company excluded. So for him, at least if I'm fucking dudes so it's me being the man in it. Not sure how he'd take it if he knew I was the bottom for my first, or like with you. I think if he sees me as a heartless taker, a dominant, he thinks I'll grow out of it. Settling into fucking men in making money, take women, the respectable way like him. He would hate it if he knew I have zero power to dominate some little twink sleeping in a tent over there, who bottoms with me wrapped around his little finger." 

Appreciating this candor, Liam nods and offers back kindness like Harry gives to him. 

"Well I'm guessing Louis, from what I get out of Zayn and Niall, isn't a normal bottom. He's one of a kind. It would be interesting to know why he's like that. Have you been learning about his past? His coming out story, why he's here? From what I've heard he doesn't act like someone who has a bad experience about being gay. Not like, me, any of us really. I mean even Zayn with Zayn who is so ready for leaving, he is still talking about what is the problems are he'll have to face at home. He seems really handling his mystique differently. You know since Louis. And that lad Nazir coming and all, Zayn has even opted to delay leaving, did you know, he had the option to leave but he's gonna stay? Zayn, Zayn who has never been a joiner." 

So there it was. Liam knew. Perhaps before but if not, maybe in their tent, maybe it came out in the ride up to camp, whenever it was, Zayn had become an open book. Now all of them were. Well. Accept the most sexually open of them all. Louis' story was still completely unknown. 

Liam misses that Harry looks puzzled. His brow furrows, he begins biting his lower lip in the way one does when worried. Busy with his fire Liam rambles on unaware. 

"It's amazing actually what Zayn has done, become, um done for me. To me. Not to be over-sharing though, you've been with me, you know what I like, right, but Zayn actually got me, um. Well let's just say when he said he never knew anything could be better for him than the reverse cowboy Louis did on him, dat ass of Louis' being, I'm told a marvel of world record, but let's just say I can relate to you're willingness to be flexible in the past for me. That's, all, hope you don't mind me putting it out there like that about Louis." 

Harry has to admit. He doesn't mind. He is only curious, so curious, driven by the unknowns plaguing him about Louis. A part of him wants this weekend to never end so he can slip back into that tent, spend eternity making love to Louis. The other part of him wants to hurry the day away and get back to the ranch so a promise of answers can come. 

"I don't mind Liam. I'm really crazy over what is the story with Louis. Everyone talks here at Bar 3. Usually as soon as they feel pressure, or isolated, or whatever, just cocky even. They talk. They brag. Everyone wants to be the top dog. So why is Louis different? He makes up these stupid stories that no one is going to believe. It leaves him open, but why. Taking what I know about him, he's sexually unlimited in where he will go, what he will do. Instructing Niall how to be a good bottom, stuff with Zayn, the way he is with me...do you think?" 

Harry stops. He considers then he proceeds cautiously, "Do you think, I mean, Louis has something going on with the Australians. And he has no story about why he is here. Do you think he's fucking some of them? Like maybe he's just with whoever like, like..." 

"Like what Harry?" Liam gets a serious tone to his voice. Harry's implying something, Liam knows this. "Like he's a whore or something? You think he's some kind of prostitute and he's doing tricks?" 

Harry just rubs his lips with his fingers like he's considering saying yes, and he doesn't reply. The thought of it makes him sick. Liam mentioned Louis' reverse cowboy. Had Harry not been the benefactors of that very act just a few hours ago in their night long tent sex-fest it would be a lot easier to keep a picture of what Liam said out of his mind. But now all he can see is the view he had of Louis, that made for sex bottom of his, riding Harry's cock, rolling his dick while Harry was buried deep in him and edging Harry for what was one of the single best fucks of Harry's life. It was as Harry fears, like Louis is "professional". 

"Harry, Louis is not a, he's not, men don't. Anyway the Australians are all straight. I know, I know Louis is...unrestrained. But I can tell you he's not a..." 

Liam stops. He remembers when he and Louis talked the first time at the dining hall when Louis was so clearly sweet. Unlike ever before he made Liam feel comfortable. Prostitutes? Do they do that, some of them do, the good ones, Liam imagines. But Louis? Liam becomes certain. He feels he owes so much to Louis. The thing Louis created in he and Zayn and Niall. It was all Louis' making. 

Liam looks up from their campfire which is beginning to take a very solid hold. He sees Will is coming down from higher ground where his bead roll was. The private conversation is over. In a rush Liam blurts out his point before the chance passes. 

"Harry, Louis is clearly madly, deeply in love with you. I really think that is all that matters. Why don't you go back to your tent while Will and I get breakfast started and make love to Louis." 

*** 

Harry nods a greeting to Will in passing and rushes to the tent. He hears Liam and Will greet and Will says something to Liam about a loon calling. Undistracted Harry enters his tent. 

It was warming by the fire and when he enters the tent it feels colder without the sun's effects and the slight warmth of the small fire. Louis is balled up barely visible hiding deep in the big, doubled sleeping bag. Harry removes his two pieces of clothing and slips in where he immediately gets a reaction from a soundly sleeping Louis. 

"M, bae so cold, come here." Louis pulls Harry into him and wraps his small form around Harry. Harry releases the tension in his mind about Louis because he can only feel the cold leaving him the moment they touch. 

It's not the cold on his skin he realizes is leaving so instantly, it's the last shards of ice in his heart. Louis feels like home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Worked hard to get this out for the start of #ProjectHome. Enjoy. Next undate they ride back to the ranch. Harry's world will unravel. The Australians become relevant. And so on. 
> 
> I'm not sure why so many flatter me with checking in. Maybe like this is like it s for me your place to see a love live like we all need to believe. Maybe it's because you count typos as a hobby and this is easy pickings. Whatever. Just know I appreciate your numbers clicking me into confidence to share what I assure is pure fantasy and I hope has a shred of something tangible like true love.  
> ~Palo


	48. Aubade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zayn tells Harry a story. Harry misses the point. And then it is too late.

With coffee brewing and hot water ready for bathing or whatever it was well after sunrise when Zayn and Niall came out of their tent. Both were surprised at the cold, had a quick wee and raced to the fire because while the sun was bright but the refreshing coldness in the air was still a jolt They join Will and Liam at the fireside. Niall immediately notices there is a pair of dutch ovens on the coals, breakfast odors waft a deliciousness in the air. Perpetually hungry Niall rubs his hands and smiles giddy about food. 

Each of the four exchange a quiet "good morning". Liam hands them mugs and pours some coffee. For a few minutes the four sit silently drinking and contemplating.

As Niall and Zayn work the sleep out of their eyes, Will passes Zayn a light and Zayn takes out his cigarettes. For several more minutes all are silent, sipping warm brew. Feeling a mix of cold air and warm fire. 

From a short distance away a stirring is heard over in the occupied tent. Four sit waiting expecting to be joined by Harry and Louis, but then it starts. Something is becoming audible from within the tent. It's not the sound of people getting on with the day, only getting it on with each other. Immediately upon recognition, a desperate attempt to cover the noises coming from inside the tent, the four initiate a loud conversation. They can only hope to mask the sound of what they know they are hearing. 

Each launches into a different subject. All are eager to avoid getting too much information as it sounds like someone is being murdered, or having it insanely good. 

"Surprising to see snow up on those peaks! Guess that means that fall is coming soon even though was blazing hot like it's been all month of August.."

"We should leave to drive the cattle down after lunch..."

"How soon do you think that cinnamon bread is gonna be ready..."

"What in the world was that sound we heard earlier just before sunrise..."

Everyone turns to Zayn who had the audacity to say the word "sounds" when they all knew they were talking to avoid hearing Hary and Louis. Just don't say "sounds". It makes the brain go back to .... 

Who were they kidding? Their futile attempts are largely ineffective. The two were clearly heard. Harry, in particular, sounded very, very, very happy. In the end all the four could do was look at each other, shake their heads and laugh about it.

When the noises stop, everyone gets quiets again. Zayn smiles as he remarks on Will's comment about heading back. "I'm sure it doesn't matter when we go. From the sounds of it, there's no way Louis is going to ride back without being a little sore today!" 

The four laugh. Liam meets Niall's glance and winks as he worries about Niall's comfort more than Louis'. Each returns to quietly sipping or smoking. It's an hour later when they hear a tent unzip and Harry emerges. His lips are insanely red. He looks like he has had exhausting sex, his hair is a wreck. But his eyes are the happiest his friends have ever seen. 

Harry goes to the lake and gets his hands wet. He runs wet fingers through his hair which gives him a refreshed, instant makeover from sex hair. He comes to sit next to Liam and as everyone greets him he smiles slightly and meets Liam's eyes whispering hushed for only Liam to hear, "Repeat. Reverse cowgirl sunrise." 

Liam spews coffee and sputters. From this everyone guesses it was a private joke and hopes therefore, it is not going to be shared. If anyone looked closely it would be easy to see Liam's blush. Many minutes pass before Louis comes out of the tent. He is wearing Harry's big sweater again, a beanie, his tight jeans; he looks soft and well-fucked. Visible skin on his neck is marked. Nobody was going to miss the idea of how. This group pretends not to notice.

Louis chooses to avoid an open seat on a log and goes straight to Harry's arms. He cuddles into Harry's lap. From the way his head drops to Harry's shoulder it's clear he's exhausted. 

Liam moves to hand Louis a mug of coffee but Will rushes in cutting Liam off. 

"No, Liam that won't do for this one," Pulling out a tin wire ball for making tea Will drops loose leaf tea into ball. He puts the teal ball into the mug, adds some hot water. "Liam, bring Louis some milk from over in our food cache, would you please." 

Having so instructed Liam, Will hands to Louis the mug. Fingertips barely exposed like sweater-paws. Louis takes the mug and he softly mumbles "Thank you Will." 

Everyone looks surprised except Harry about Will's attentitiveness. Like what the? What-the-actual-fuck? Why such special treatment for Louis? 

As they exchange glances and Liam walks off assigned to be Louis' errand boy, Will seems happy with himself. Harry pulls Louis tighter and knows why. Will had one like this; one like Louis. So often a tiger on the outside, but inside it all was a soft, little kitten. 

Liam comes back with milk and clicks his boot heels formally bowing as he says, "Lord Tomlinson" and starts to add some milk to Louis mug. "May I?" He adds speaking with false-formality as he pulls the tea ball out of the seeped brew after he has added milk. 

"Thanks Liam, but m'far from anyone's Lord, really, really far that's for sure." 

Harry pulls Louis in against himself to hold more tightly and he kisses the side of Louis beanie-clad head. He takes stock of what Louis says. It gets more to the point of their night long conversations, than did the few conversations that they had while they made love over and over again. Louis said, Harry focuses on, that he is absolutely "not anyone's Lord". "Really, really". 

Harry is considering this.Even Will seems better attuned to Louis than he is. Harry realizes he misses the "tells", ones sign of their colors, honestly, confidence, realmsss. Know "tells" is a skill. Card players who are professional learn to read them. Harry saw Louis as a blank slate. Or at least shrouded in cloth, un textured and hidden. Will, it seems, knows who Louis is, what Louis likes, and when Harry is about to comment on this, Niall suddenly jumps into a completely different conversation. 

"Hey Will, what on earth was that musical echoing sound earlier? That wasn't wolves again was it? It sounded almost ghostly." He asks. 

"Oh that aubade right before sunrise? That was rare for here. I mean we don't have many of those critters around here normally, but that was only a harmless bird, a loon. There's a small population that can be found on a lake not too far from here in Yellowstone, but that was pretty unusual for this lake." 

"Loon? That's a bird you said, right?" Zayn asks. 

Instantly there is a lesson on loons; more strange interest in birds from Zayn. He is particularly fascinated when Will describes how pretty the birds are with their white spots against a black background. Zayn shares with Will his interest in art of a certain style and the two are deeply engrossed in concepts, art in nature, nature in art. Liam gets the food pulled off the fire. He and Niall begin to dish up plates. 

Food ready, Louis reluctantly leaves Harry's lap. He's still sleepy and soft. For Louis it could be said he's even unusually quiet. Harry wonders about that as he eats. Louis is quiet. 

Is this quietness in Louis because of the gentle pushing for Louis' story which Harry began to be insistent for throughout their night. Anytime he had Louis exposed, vulnerable, blissed, Harry nudged the conversation to that. Each time as Louis pleased Harry with the skill in everything he did, Harry had this growing idea in his mind that he begins to feel is transparent. He should have seen it. 

Louis' depth of experience. So young. So good at sex. Was he someone's prostitue? Twink on call? Harry can envision that. He could see men, rich men like his father paying for something like Louis. Besides Louis had a story that he was afraid, or embarrassed, to share. Everyone at Bar 3 came for a reason. Everyone came with "a big story". Everyone. No one came by mistake or misdemeanor.

*** 

Breakfast is finished. The boys all pitch in washing dishes. They make some sandwiches for later to carry in their saddlebags before packing up, but most of their food is gone. Will planned well for their needs. Sandwiches, some fruit, trail mix is all that is left. The cookware gets neatly backed into its canvas wrap for the mule to carry. Liam and Harry are finishing with the cook pack when Niall and Zayn come to join them with the tents, also stowed tightly back into sleeves, sleeping bags too, going into canvas tying to the mule and neatly ready for a transport. 

It's not quite noon when camp is packed. The fire had died out long ago, but Louis finishes the precaution of dumping water on the area. He's using bare feet to turn the dirt making certain no fires could wind-start after they leave. Content that the fire pit is very dead, Louis goes back to the lake, walks in ankle deep to wash dirt on his bare feet. His rolled up jeans expose his ankles but he narrowly misses getting his jeans wet. 

It was nearing the heat of the day and the temperature feels near 100F. Just a few hours ago there had been snow the mountain peaks. Once again they are bare. Louis yells how cold the water is and yet he stays in the crystal clear lake water. When he turns to his friends watching on shore he has a mischievous, inciting smile. 

Before anyone can say a thing Louis takes off his clothes tossing them ashore. Standing naked, it is easy to see how ravaged his body is. Remnants of Harry's mouth, hands, nails are littering Louis' body.

"Anyone for a swim? What'd you say to a pre-ride soak in the hot springs?" 

The two of the group look tempted by his offer. Two look frustrated. One has disappeared. 

Liam and Naill seem ready to join in. They look around and the see Zayn is still having none of this water thing. Harry also looks surprisingly apposed. Even a little exasperated. Quite frankly Harry only wants to get back to the ranch now; back to Bar 3 And to the answers promised. 

Like kids in the amusement park, Louis taunts the two who are game. He splashes them. Niall and Liam strip off clothes and attack the water. 

Louis is quick to turn and swim for safety. He heads out into the deep and to his giant boulder. The other two pursue. Louis makes his rock and climbs it. A game of king of the mountain begins again. Liam and Niall are not falling for his trap again. They abandon attempts of conquest. Swimming out farther they make their way to the base of the waterfall and the thermal pool. 

Unchallenged Louis seems happy being on his perch. Harry senses that Louis is wanting him to come join the play and waiting for him. 

But Harry can't. Seeing Louis atop a huge rock, like a mermaid calling him with some unseen pull he just can't go. He needs answers. 

Will approaches Zayn and Harry. He's been saddling horses. He observes the situation and seems unfettered. "Guess I'm going to have time for another smoke before we hit the trail." 

That is literally all he says. Nothing about it's time to leave. Nothing about responsibility. Nothing. Just a smile at boys of summer being boys and a resignation that it is what it is. He walks up from lakes edge, sits under a tree. Taking out a pipe he loads it carefully, lights it and seems at peace with waiting. 

Harry and Zayn plop to the sandy gravel of shore with both wearing expressions of slight disbelief. Zayn won't swim. Or can't. Harry wants to get answers. They are promised for back at the ranch. So both sit looking frustrated as hell. 

Eventually, Zayn takes out a cigarette and lights up. Off across the lake it appears Niall and Liam are enjoying a romantic private soak in their mountaintop natural hotspring. In the middle of the lake on a giant rock Louis appears to have reclined like he is sunbathing. He's clearly waiting there for Harry. 

Several puffs of smoke leave Zayn's lips like he's deliberating over some thought. Then he speaks. 

"Harry, I'm sitting here because there is no way I'm going in that water. I don't do swimming. But you, what's your excuse?" 

"Excuse? No excuse. We're suppose to leave at noon is all. Don't wanna mess this up. Looking forward to getting back actually." 

"Really?" Zayn says and his next drag long and deliberated. "Why the fuck would you want to go back? You got," he waves his hands out over the view with emphasis on where Louis is, "all this! Why leave?" 

Harry feels a brooding growing in him like when he was a child, told what they can and can't have. He CANT have his answers here. CANT. Harry picks up pebbles and sand and throws them in the water. Temper flaring. It patently obvious. 

Zayn has no idea how Harry can be whatever it is he is. It makes no sense. Zayn doesn't know how there is anger. After so much of what must have been a lot of sex in the tent he's pretty sure Harry should be satiated. Maybe for once had it enough. Harry's thing had been that he had an unbridled sexual compulsion. Still, Harry is confusing to Zayn. Zayn becomes pretty certain that Harry doesn't know how good he has it. 

Zayn decides to do the friend thing. Distract. Innocently distract. Whatever Harry is dealing with will work out Zayn assumes. 

Looking out over the lake Louis appears to have flipped over. He's gone from lying chest up to lying chest down. The thing is it is hard to not notice because his bum, well, because it's just so, so...almost like its... 

"Look at that." Zayn says. He lights another cigarette and out of the corner of his eye sees Harry is just staring out. The things Harry might be imagining, probably reliving his prior night, is palpable. But Harry isn't softening. He's quietly brooding. 

Zayn is a master of the quiet act. No. Actually Zayn feels he invented the quiet-mysterio thing. He can work it best. He also knows it is a defense mechanism. So he smokes and decides to chip away at Harry. Honestly his only intention is to make Harry want to go join Louis. Zayn's plan? Bait Harry. Make him seek his passion, feel his love, carpe dium. 

Unbeknownst to Zayn he miscalculates. 

"You know Harry I never talk much about my father. He's oil. My mum, she raised me, my sister, alone because she had to get us away from him. His money. His lifestyle of soulless money with the power of oil. So, yeah. We had a lot of times when we made due. Even though she had money from him for us, she never took it from the bank. She worked. She did it all. No easy path." 

Harry is listening and the only way Zayn can tell is that Harry's posture softens just a little from. Rare Zayn disclosure. As Harry listens, his eyes are fixed on Louis. Louis' glorious bum basking atop a rock for the gods above to admire. 

"So when I turn 11 my mom decides that I should really come into my family' faith and she's comfortable that my uncles, and older cousins, are agreeing it right for me, it's time for me to make a journey to home. But she's afraid. Now this is the funny part. For her, the worry is about all the coming of age, traditions, Islam, you know because I'm westernized right? Half English, God save the queen and all that." 

"She goes to my oldest uncle and tells him her fears. He tells her not to worry. I will be safe. I will be protected. I will be eased into my manhood and things Islam, but no worry none of this passing from boyhood." 

Harry is listening intently. It is clear he's doing it out of respect. But he's not too engaged; his eyes stay on Louis. Zayn forges on. 

"We get to an airport in Paris. I'm eleven, remember? My uncle, did I mention he was widowed for years? Okay so we've flown to Paris. I don't know what would be the normal route to fly to my father. I've only seen him in my memory in Bradford. This traveling is a new world for me. My uncle takes me to our flight, it says Dubai. I don't know where that is." 

"We get in to some airport and its late. I'm asleep. He carries me. There is something I remember about lights and cars, I think it was a cab, I don't know. Then I sleep. I remember thinking when I'm sleeping that it's not loud or uncomfortable like in an airport, or a cab, no city sound just quietness, kinda like up here actually. I wake and its light. And quiet. And peaceful." 

For the first time Harry looks at Zayn. The story has hooked him. 

"I get out of this bed. It's a funny bed. It takes me a minute but I realize I'm on a boat. It's white. Everything is white. The bed. The sheets. The walls, the stairs I walk up. I go out into the light. And. I do mean light, like it is blinding because I had been so tired and it's mid-day and everything is white except for where it's blue. We are on a boat on the water. I can barely adjust my eyes. And, you know. I don't swim." 

Alas Harry is sucked into the story. He's not looking at the lake and his boy he's listening intently. 

"And?" Harry asks. Curiousity peaked. 

"And I meet my Dad. I mean I'd met him before, right? I meet him again when I'm becoming a man. On a boat. A yacht. In the ocean. The funny part was it was nothing like my mum feared. She thought we'd be among conservative men, praying every day, dressing in traditional clothes. She feared this huge cultural shift. It wasn't like that." 

Somehow Harry felt there was a point to the story that eluded him. Somewhere in its telling, he knew Zayn would reveal a reason for Harry's benefit. Harry just didn't see the relevance. And he anxiously wanted something to grab on as the reason. 

"So what are you telling me? I don't get it Zayn. What are you saying?" 

"I saying Harry, that sometimes things are not as they seem. Sometimes we see them through lenses of our own fears. That's all. I'm saying, you wanker, let this feeling you have for Louis free. You can't create a fear that is ever going to be as a concern. As to what reality is, it won't be as bad." 

"Is that it?" 

"What do you mean is that it? Yes, you idiot that is it. If you mean of the story. Yes." 

Zayn is quiet. He has no idea how badly Harry's anxiety state destroys logic. He has no idea Zayn's point was, it won't be so bad. Zayn doesn't have anxiety. He can't relate. Looking out and seeing Louis an amusing and innocent thought pops into his head. There is no meaning behind it. No intent. No suggestion. Zayn is just clueless and wanting to give Harry a laugh. So he goes one step farther. 

"Well Harry, there is this other part of the story actually." Zayn says and laughs. He looks out again at where Louis is and he takes another cigarette. "What is really funny to me, and to this day I laugh at, seeing Louis out there reminds me of it, actually. You see my father and I saw each other more friequetly after that first time. Always on these yachts, some exotic spot, the Maldives, Figi, you name it. Always the same, nothing like what my mum thought. She worried about me being exposed into the manly aspects that were very anti western, conservative Islam, women wrapped physically and emotionally. So in fact the thing is, Louis out there, bum up sunning reminds me of this. My father always had these women, you know, expensive women on his yacht. He hired them. And if my mum wanted to worry she should have worried what I was about that these, you know. I saw my older cousins, even, like with these women. Prostitues." 

Harry's brain did a spasm where he lost momentary sense of hearing although he hears every single word of what Zayn says next. 

"These women, paid women, I got accustom to seeing them on these boats. I'd wake from hours and hours of travel on these visits. I'd go up deck on some gigantic yacht. And just like Louis over there sunbathing on the rock these women would be laying about the deck, bums nearly bare, exposed to the sun. You know they would be wearing thongs, usually topless or with little pasties on their nipples, but pretty much naked. Louis reminds me of that. Perfect bum. Sun kissed skin. Expensive. Like the women my father had around. Who would have guessed my father was the opposite of who my mum feared he'd show me to be. You know sometimes I think the disrespect of the women, as things, was more impactful because of how it was than how my mum feared." 

A pain in Harry's chest of his panic renewed. It hit like bricks. Breath evaded him, too. Just as when he was falling in love, oblivious but completely, Harry's anxiety hit. He realized his spasm was visceral when he discovered he was bent over and loosing stomach contents on the shore of the lake. Zayn was soothingly rubbing us back, caught by surprise at Harry's attack. 

*** 

Later, Harry is riding down the mountain near the back of their group. He recovered from the small waves of nausea but any study of Louis had him risking reintroducing a spinning, sickening feeling. Zayn comforts him like he did before they got on the trail, ready to head back to the ranch. Assuming Harry had an upset stomach from consuming unboiled lake water, it didn't take long before the others had finished gathering the cattle without Zayn or Harry's help. 

Comforted or not. Harry missed a great many things that the others enjoyed unaware of his plight with misery. He missed gathering the cattle to bring them to the trail head which was great fun, sort of like a game of bovine hide and go seek. 

Looking for the cows which had spread out among trees meant the lads got a taste of "cow-trickery", a sport among cows, particularly when paired against a team of inexperienced cowhands. The cows play around until it becomes apparent the people have it dialed in on catching them. Feeling sick meant Harry missed Liam doing a simply spectacular bit of rope work involving an impressive big-loop to rope a bent for hell, way-ward steer at a gallop in an open meadow. 

Harry also misses the small things. He misses that when the started away from their camp that his mates are talking about the appearance of a small wild flower bouquet that appeared up the hill not far from where Will had slept along side some big rock. 

Most notably was how Hary misses everything romantic and adorable passed his way by Louis as they rode back trailing the cows. Some things were simple, like just that Louis looked so pretty sitting his little white horse in his thigh-hugging jeans, his white sloppy neck tee revealing his carmel colored skin, and his way of looking back over his shoulder and smiling fond at Harry. 

That something about fond was missing for Harry. It was especially obvious when they all dismounted after a mid-point break half way down the mountain at some water where they stopped to let the stock have a drink. Standing beside his horse looking a shade of green, Harry gave a bizarre reception to a spontaneous gift from Louis. 

It was a short break. Really only meant for relieving oneself, watering the animals, but when Louis returns from relieving himself he carries a wreath made of grass in his hands. He goes to Harry and puts the crown on Harry's head. 

"There Curly, or as Will says, Prince Harold. A crown worthy of your curls." Louis says. He looks so pleased. He smiles up at Harry and raises on his toes like he's going for a kiss. Before he reaches Harry's lips Harry snatches the grass-wreath off his head, throws it down and stomps it into the earth. Harry puts his helmet on his head and thrust his hand into Louis' chest pushing him back. Louis looks shocked. 

"Enough with the fantasy world Louis. For once maybe you can conjure up the truth." 

*** 

It was a quiet ride from there. The group of inexperienced wranglers got the cattle back to Will's ranch. It was a quick turn around to settle Will's horse and mule in, thank him and leave the old man as they rode on from his place while Will phones for the cows owners to alert them to come collect the herd at his the next day. 

Harry feels guilt settle in his core about how he was emotionlessly detached in parting with Will. Maybe it was because by the time they got to Will's ranch it was clear to all Harry had a burr up his arse. Harry needed to be self defensive because his emotions are a mix of confusion. At Will's ranch there was a private parting, whispering, between Will and Louis while Louis was dismounted temporarily as they said their goodbyes. The two glanced at Harry as they spoke in a brief hush of secrets. 

To Harry it is quite clear that his mood was read by all, and for the others, the problem is him. At least in Will's eyes that was easily the case. Will cupped the back of Louis' neck and offered some tiding whispered to him. Harry could imagin it was comfort. Will was siding with Louis without doubt. Confirming it Louis looked at Harry as he pulled away from Will and for the first time didn't Louis didn't smile. This was the only time Harry could recall Louis not going glassy with a brightness directed at him like he was everything. 

Shortly after they rode out of Will's ranch the sky began its color shift healding the setting sun. The five rode on quietly to Bar 3. They were late. Later than expected because of their over-stay for play at the lake. 

Wranglers sprung to action taking the lad's horses and they were told to go straight in for supper before the hall closed. Dinner was held for them. That was what they were all instructed, except for Louis. 

Louis' counselor was amoung those who greeted them. He made a hasty straight line for Louis which cut Harry off at the start of his own approach. Something about their last few hundred yards riding back, admiring Louis for his beauty and feeling an angst Harry couldn't sort in his head, Harry meant to apologize when the got off their horses. He meant to tell Louis how they had to have the long held talk, this night, this very night because it was making Harry all but insane.

But no. Harry, Liam, Zayn and Niall went to eat, told to hurry since the cook was kept late for them. Louis went with his counselor to? 

An hour later Harry said good night to the other three. Liam, Zayn and Niall looked the way he and Louis should be. Exhausted and insanely content. But Harry was alone. He went down the hall of the lodge to his room and looked out a window at a breezeway with his eyes catching some tail lights of a car. He assumed it was a counselor leaving for the night, or Kyla. He didn't notice, as he was aware it was near curfew, a person standing waving goodbye. It was a few minutes befor lights out. He wanted to see Louis. He had a minute or two to apologize. 

Going into Louis' room Harry sat on the bed. He was a little surprised. Louis was kept without getting dinner. Harry was so busy thinking about their talking he didn't notice how neat Louis' room was. Not all like normal. Had he looked he would have discovered the drawers in Louis' room were empty. His room was stripped and remade for the next lad. 

Had Harry gotten off the bed where he sat with that weak-kneed, heart-wrench of love he would have seen who it was walking in from the driveway out in front right viable from Louis window view. 

It was one of the Australians, Michael. He was walking from wher he waved carrying a folded sheet of paper that he opened and is reading. 

*** 

Michael walks into Calum's room. The light will go off in seconds but he has to share. Fortunately Ashton and Luke are in the room too. 

"What is it?" Luke asks. Michael looks strange. His face, weird, undefinable. 

"Letter from Tomlinson to Styles...to Harry. It's really, really good." 

The four lads huddle. This is exciting Louis wrote Harry a letter. Louis who for some reason had "a guest" at the ranch who arrived late Saturday while the Uk band was out on a cattle drive. Apparently this person was there to take Louis home, unprecedented, but yes. Louis left in such a hurry he could only leave a letter. And he trusted Michael to deliver it.


	49. Boyfriends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry adjusts life at Bar 3 without Louis. Meanwhile at home in Cheshire his father finds months of letters written to Harry.

Harry is certain when he wakes the morning after their cattle drive adventure that it's because he feeling a small, delicate hand bringing him out of his slumber. Sadly it is the sensation of his come pouring over his own hand that jettisons him from fantasy to fully awake. 

More unfortunately is the realization that Louis is not with him. Harry is alone in his bed at the ranch and now he has a mess resulting from his dream-state wank to clean before he can start his day. 

A little later as he's dressing Harry's is humming to himself happily. He looks at his own reflection, his green eyes. 

Louis has a thing about them, or so he has said in the past. Louis describes the way their color seems to intensify to shades of yellow, or mossy grey with the changes in light or as Harry's pupils alter. Harry thinks this morning Louis will see deeper into them and know the love he has for Louis because whatever Louis says about his miscreant deeds bringing him to Bar 3, Harry will let his eyes of green meet blue and make sure Louis knows that it is oaky.

Harry wants to hold Louis tightly. Apologize for his behavior the day before. Anytime Harry thinks about it he becomes embarrassed. He plans to blame the behavior on his reluctance to return to reality after being in heaven up at the alpine lake. Harry hopes Louis will buy the exucse. Louis, Liam, Zayn and Niall too. And Will. The old man had insights about them that were uncanny. Harry would have to find a way to explain himself to Will but he's pretty certain the wise old man will see through any lies. Best to be honest, Harry desides. But first it was Louis that Harry is needing to speak to. Harry knows that wants to say IT, the thing that has been held back for so long. Hold Louis tight and say it. "If I could fly, I'd be coming right back home to you..."

The sky is blue and clear when Harry steps outside to walk to the dining hall. Harry hums more of the tune in his head and can't wait for the best day ever. 

Harry doesn't care that as he is entering the dining hall he is nearly pushed aside by the Australians who make their way through the door he opens with an almost deliberate feeling of superiority. Ashton goes so far as to push through Harry's shoulder with his almost like he is suggesting Harry clear a path for them.

But Harry hasn't a care. He loves Louis and he will tell this to Louis in those exact words. Whatever offense brought Louis here, Harry will dismiss it and confess his devotion.

Too excited to wait he bee-lines to his group which unfortunately includes Nazir but no Louis. Louis must be late. 

The expression on their faces when they see him do not look at all what one should expect. Harry knows he was not the only one living a dream or post-weekend high. So why the glum faces. 

"Morning." 

"Harry," Liam says with a quick glance at Zayn and Niall as well as a visible swallow in trepidation. Liam's tone is oddly solemn. "Last night when we got back, it was late, we were late, so there was someone here waiting for Louis. From home. Harry, Louis left last night. He packed and went home. He's gone." 

Harry's heart did that thing. His breath evades him. Harry thinks his friends are taking his arms because he knows the room is spinning and he is feeling himself loose all focus. Louis is gone? 

***

The first week after Louis left Harry tries to learn how to avoid massive panic attacks and this painfulness in his chest that incapacitates him. By the end of the week given, he has constant headaches and doesn't want to eat, his counselor is suggesting he try an anxiety drug. 

Harry doesn't want that. He thinks if he can hold out with wearing his misery his counselor will break the code and answer his questions. What is Louis' story? Why was he there? Why did he go so soon, clearly not rehabilitated in such short order. Was there a way to contact him? Harry can't understand how if nothing was normal about Louis' situation then why was the protocol still applied? Why couldn't someone just tell him something? 

Why did he have to hurt like this? 

Nothing Harry says to persuade his counselor works. He tries to get answers from Louis' counselor and it goes little better. At least he says something to Harry though. 

"It's not easy to see you like this Harry. I know, I can say, that I believe while Louis denied breaking the rules of the program I suspect he was hiding the truth. We don't tolerate sexual contact among our boys, it was clear from what he said to me that he was hiding something about you. I just can't tell you anything personal about him, even more so now. He just wasn't supposed to be here. But he was sent here by mistake. And none of you boys are supposed to have sex with anyone here, but then Harry, I suspect you know if he did that."

Harry thinks he wants to confirm the hunch, maybe it will force a trade of secrets. A tell for a tell. He's not sure though because everyone has been assuming Harry was reformed after Louis came. Liam had stopped confiding in his counseling sessions with complaints about sexual tension bearing on him from Harry. If Harry reveals what he did with Louis, the staff will learn Harry traded one partner for another, would he be considered unreformed? Consensual or not, sex was against the rules. Harry couldn't risk staying longer. Not now. 

"It's okay to stay quiet about that Harry. If I were you, I'd be quiet. I'm not asking you to betray a trust with Louis anymore than I can betray my confidentiality about him for your comfort. But I'm pretty certain how things are. You see I've been working with another counselor who's boys are somewhat...entangled, shall we say with Louis, for lack of a better way to say it. I know the way he was with...well, let's just say you and he shared a odd view of sexual liberties."

Entangled? Harry is thinking. "What the fucjk does "entangled" mean? An odd view of sexual liberties? What the fucjk does that mean?"

And then it hits Harry. Australians. The marks on Louis' wrists. 

Smack. Harry feels like the floor hits him between the eyes. 

***

In the following weeks Harry is aloof and complete depressed. His friends seek him out daily and mostly he chooses to be alone. Occasionally he considers pulling information from Zayn and Niall. He knows they have some "experience" with Louis. Fortunately Nazir is getting comfortable in the program and he is less attached to Zayn although Zayn is still working with him. Most of the time Nazir is actually hanging with his countrymen so Harry tries to talk to Zayn. But Zayn is very protective of Louis. He says it's nothing for Harry to know. Nothing that risks making Harry feel worse. 

Another few weeks ticks by and Harry is feeling a slight bit more in control of his emotions. At least his anxiety is not weighing on him. He finds he can think about Louis and not feel panic. If he has a strong emotion when he daydreams it is desire. He just wants to feel Louis' skin. See the sparkle in his eyes. Breathe in his scent. Feel his lips.

Always at time it's the Australians who infuriate Harry the most. It's become very clear there was some thing that Louis' counselor and the Australian's was working on. Some dynamic. Harry is shocked believing the thing was suspected sexual contact. 

But he fears it. 

On one day Harry enters the dining hall and is going to get some food to take outside to picnic tables where his friends are waiting. It was autum and the day had been warm and sunny like a tease of summer. Everyone wanted to enjoy the beauty of outside before the snow would begin to fly. That weather was coming soon. 

Strangely for fall season the offerings at dinner included fresh peaches. Harry came up to the self serve counter and was filling palate when he heard Michael talking to Luke. Their plates are full and they are turning away to leave now are Harry is in earshot. What Michael says catches Harry by complete surprise. 

"These peaches are round, succulent. They are almost as good as Tomlinson's ass, you know. I had one at lunch and all the rest of the day I kept thinking about when we had Louis tied up and how his bum felt in my hand. Damn he makes a straight man gay for it you know."

After hearing that the next few days were exceptionally hard for Harry. Again he tried getting information about Louis. From his counselor, Louis', the Australian's. Always the same result. Nothing. The counselors each told Harry the same thing, to wait till he got back to England; when he got home, they told Harry, Harry could look Louis up. 

Resolving to do his best to guarantee he would "graduate" Harry took advantage of his skills with horses and his innate knack around kids. He began to focus on helping Kyla with lessons for the kids.

This was a good plan for both because Kyla and her advanced girls, the ones who teased Harry about Louis, were doing fun and unusual challenges that kept Harry's mind distracted. 

"Ski joring." Kyla said.

"What?"

"I want you and your friends to help me get some horses trained for ski joring. You, Niall, Liam and Zayn. But we have to do this in secret. We are going to go train over at Will's. I don't want anyone here poo-pooing the idea so I want the horses ready then we can show the rest of the wranglers that this will work before I attempt to do this with my kids. Besides, Will said he and Francie used to do it so he can help us get the horses used to pulling a person by a rope. It will be fun Harry. You could use a little fun these days."

Harry thought about the idea of seeing Will. He had not made his apology to Will since the day Louis left. Avoiding Will had Harry feeling growing guilty over it. The risk of injury in trying a dangerous sport on horseback wasn't a concern. It was only the fear of confronting Will that scared Harry. He and Will were the same in so many ways. Soft spoken but not stupid. Methodical but not clueless. How would Will receive him after so long?

"Kyla. You and Will are pretty tight, friendly. Aren't you?"

"Um hum. I guess so Harry. Will is lonely so I like to go talk to him. He asks about you mostly these days. He wants you to come by. He's worried, you know, since Louis left. I think he has some photographs to give you too. Some he took of you boys at the lake. He told me how hard it was to get you all to be still for a second because you were like, like you are."

Harry takes a risk at raring his standard question. Thinking about seeing Will, Will maybe wondering what happened emboldens Harry. "Kyla, do you know why Louis left? He got off Snowball and he literally disappeared. He never got to eat, he just vanished. And nobody just gets taken out so soon like that. My first week here there was this kid whose mum died so he got to go home, and even he was back after the family service in a few days. But with Louis it's like this big mystery."

"I don't know Harry. There was a woman and a man who came here on Sunday several hours before you got back from helping Will. I think the man was a barrister. He was dealing with the staff, paperwork about Louis' release, I think. You five were very late returning. Everyone was super stressed and impatient to have Louis get back to the ranch. Meanwhile the woman looked very worried. She paced, walked around waiting, getting more tired by the minute. I remember when I saw her face that I was struck by how much she looked like Louis. I heard the man call her Jay but I never spoke to her. If I were to guess I'd say that she had to be Louis' mom. She was pretty, big eyes, sweetness to her face that was evident even though she looked so weary with worry. Don't think she was a person who could easily hide her emotions. And she had the same accent as Louis. Not like yours or the other boys from the UK and not like the man who I believe was a lawyer. From how odd that extraction was I'm guessing Louis was sent here by mistake. Can you imagine what it must be like if your kid, eighteen or not, is sent here where the other kids have been through other less strict settings of reform programs before they came here? You know the boys here are facing serious criminal charges. And hers, Louis, so small and pretty? Louis acts all tough but he's a complete kitten. So Louis who is openly gay along side someone like Liam whose beaten other boys to a pulp over things like them flirting with him?"

Kyla and Harry were both thinking of that image when Kyla added. "My honest opinion, Harry, is that if you and Louis hadn't hooked up he would have been in a lot of trouble here. Someone would have done something to him because he can't help but sass people and he is so...you know. You saved him in more than one way. Once on the mountain in that storm and again when you became his boyfriend. No one was going to mess with him. Not with your rep."

Harry's brain glitches. "Boyfriend Kyla, you're saying I was his boyfriend?"

"Well of course silly. Boyfriends. Baby boyfriends. What else do you call two beautiful boys swooning over each other and having mutually consenting sex? And look what it's done to you. You no longer stalk the innocent. Won't it be nice when you get home. You can find each other and be together again. God, it makes me so happy for you. And it makes me believe that love can happen against the odds. Even someone with as many hangups as me might find a good thing. It takes an open heart."

Finally, Harry thinks, someone who is willing to talk about Louis. And Will, Harry considers that he may not have deserved Will's understanding but at least Kyla believes he has it. These people really believe in him. Flaws and all.

As if she's clairvoyant Kyla says, "Harry, we all make mistakes. That's what being here is about."

It pops out of Harry's mouth before he thinks. Probably because it is so nice to be accepted, hopelessly flawed or not. "Kyla there are two things I really need to know. One is about Louis and the Australians. I heard them talking about Louis. And it seemed very sexual. And Will. What happened to Francie? I think the lake we were at is where he's buried. At least there is a marker there, a rock. It has initials and when I asked Will he said Francie has the same middle name as me. What happened?"

"I can't tell you about Francie. Ask Will yourself. But be prepared it is a brutal story. Really sad. And way before my time. But the Australians...seriously Harry!"

Kyla shook her head and looks at Harry with exasperation. "I think the counsellors were trying to mediate things between the four of them and Louis. The Australians, I think, started out hard on him with pranks, but then Louis turned the tables. Like that day, remember with the bees and their work detail got stung? That I've found out was all Louis' doing. And he also messed up their clothing, he's seeded them with burrs, he's done a lot to harass them. They, meanwhile, had been doing things that were far more narfious. They almost got him killed by a horse. They tied him up the day of the festival. His counselor said he had awful bruises and cuts on his wrist, but he never revealed how they got there. They've, the Aussies, since confessed. Apparently they are motivated, like you, to get a green light to leave. Micheal will go for sure, probably when you go. Incidentally, of the four of them, I would guess he's actually not as straight as he claims. I' pretty sure that he has a big crush on your boy."

Relief. Harry feels such relief. And guilt. A lot of guilt. Why was he always confusing sexually driven Louis with whoring? Why did he assume the worse?

"I overheard Michael talking to Luke one day. You have no idea how confused I was. They were talking about tied up Louis. About his bum. How it's like a succulent peach. I, I..."

Kyla gives Harry a hug. His shame is evident. "Oh, sweetie, it's okay. Really. Can you imagine how easily it could go the other way? You both are so attractive. Who is prettier is a matter of taste. And then personality makes it easier to see one as a fave, but trust me, if I were a gay man, I'd have to quit my job for obsessing over the two of you! Or I'd have to petition to be a threesome thing like your friends. God don't even get me started on them and how hot that is in my brain! All you beautiful boys, it's so ...And you're all so secretly lovely under that stuff you hide your hearts with. All of you. It's like a litter of lab puppies when you're together. I don't know which of you five is more adorable."

Relief washes over Harry. Finally some truth. Why had Louis never told him? Maybe he was protective. Maybe he knew Harry's delicate heart was not only afraid to open to love but that Harry was always going to be his worst own enemy. What would Harry do if he knew about the way Louis was treated? Harry admits to himself; he'd kill the threat. 

Kyla went on about them. She described Liam's as having puppy eyes and his adorable need to be bossy. Niall's appeal is his easy going, cluelessness. Zayn's fake mr. Mysterio thing shielding his sensitive side. Louis' brazen sass deflecting his devotion to his friends. And Harry? "...you're just such a dork, Harry. You adjust your hair all the time and move around like your posh, because well you are, but then you fall over your endless legs because you are a complete dork and to top it off you're so sweet. You're here for being a predator and you are really a complete doll. You need Louis to protect you as much as you protect him because he has spunk, you are too defenslessly trusting. Together you two are perfect."

Kyla got a sad look. "Like Will and Francie. Harry, you should go see him, go see Will. It's fall. The snow is loading in the higher elevations. Soon it will be Christmas and you'll be leaving. He's been alone for so long. He loves you and Louis. You need to see him before it's too late."

***

Des walks through his front door feeling relieved to be home from an extended bit of business travel keeping him away too long. A message from Anne said she and Gemma would be back about dinner time and she had made reservations for them at a favorite eatery. Relax, she'd said. Enjoy quiet time settling in at home.

As Des poured himself a cocktail and began to unwind he speculates. Excitement about Harry coming home in a month has probably got the two women out shopping on a spree for Harry. His family fueling the entire British economy no doubt with the two liking to dress Harry in the finest of designer clothes. Harry likes florals so no doubt they were buying him silk shirts, the YSL being a favorite. 

On his second drink Des is wandering into the home office to check his wife's whereabouts by pulling up their banking account to see what's she is spending and where. It's not the money he cares about. He's just a control freak. 

Sitting in a chair he scrolls through accounts and sees all the usual boutiques have hit the account. Harry will have quite a Christmas. Curious, Des begins to look around in the office. Anne has a way of using decorative baskets on the book shelves as file cabinet drawers and in them she hides things. Like receipts, small purchases. He's snooping for his gift because he's hoping the Rolex purchase she made a month ago is for him, not their son. These baskets are where she'd hide a small gift like watch.

One basket is on the highest shelf. It's heavy. When Des lowers it he finds its full of unopened mail, mostly letters. All the mail is addressed to Harry. His wife has been putting them in a basket to save for Harry's return. Notably, most of these are letters addressed in the same sloppy hand-writing from a "Louis Tomlinson". Des lays them out putting them in order because, well, he's a control freak and there are so many of them. 

The first one is dated September 6. It's return address is Doncaster. The second is September 7. It's also from Doncaster. After that all are posted from a London address. There's one for everyday. Well, some are postmarked the same day, like they were mailed on a Monday, but represented a weekend submission. The fact that these letters represent everyday up to, and including the last day mail arrived before Des' discovered them has Des too curious. Control. 

Going to the first letter, Des opens it and he reads.

"Curly my love, I hope you got my note from Michael. I sorry I couldn't see you but when we got back to the ranch my mum was there and her barrister. Seems I got released. I wanted to tell you but time was so short, I couldn't write it out. You see I wasn't really guilty of anything. They came to get me when it was worked out so I'm flying home tonight."

"It's funny because I didn't want to leave you. I know it's supposed to be hard being there, learning to confront problems but for me it was a playground. A game of finding ways to sneak away with you. Make love with you. Thinking about you makes me hard just now. I'm writing this to you on a plane and my mum is sitting beside me so I really can't tell you more because, you know. But I going to write you every day Curly. And when I'm alone writing I going to describe everything I want to do to you when we touch next. Or remind you of all the ways you had me when we were together."

"My address is on the envelope, and when I get my phone reactivated I'll send you the number. My mum says I might have to leave Doncaster for a little while until things settle. You see the man who got me sent to the ranch is holding a grudge apparently and he controls the courts. Until his daughter gets her lies fully disproven she's making him blame me. Seems I might move to London for a bit."

"writing more to you again tomorrow"

"Love Louis". There's a pair of hieroglyphic looking designs by the name, one is like a smiley face. The other something like a wired, "y" or "t".

Des puts down the letter. He looks up the name and finds a Louis Tomlinson on social media from Doncaster. The lad has interests in football and theatre. He's in an amature band. Searching around more there are pictures of the normal type for teens. Looking deeper Des discovers who the Tomlinsons are as a family. This Louis person has a passel of younger sisters. The family seems tight. In all the pictures with Louis it's the same. Des sees a boy, about Harry's age, who is delicate and pretty. He smiles brightly when he's not pulling silly faces. He looks committed to his family. 

An image in his mind, Des returned to the letters. Unlike the first that he opened in haste he takes time to open each very carefully so he can reseal them. He gets through the next ten day's of posted letters before the pornographic nature of them becomes too sickening for him to read any more.

Bar 3 was supposed to fix Harry. In Des' mind the crime was not predatory sex with unwilling or deceived partners, it was any act of homosexual sex. It doesn't matter that this boy, Louis, is consensual, in love as he says in his descriptions and sonnets. It's still a criminal thing. 


	50. Lover's Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nazir has a secret. Harry discovers it after he has come back from his last visit to Will''s ranch. On this visit, Harry's last, the sadness of Will's heartbreaking loss of Francie is revealed. 
> 
> Triggers! See below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning!!!!
> 
> After the Harry/Nazir section this chapter goes very, very dark and awful. The content details how Francie dies which is a jealousy driven rape/murder. Recommend anyone who can't take that theme skip at the "***" in this update and go to the next chapter. 
> 
> The following chapter will pick up with Harry. You won't miss the idea of what happened by skipping details here that are so disturbing. What happens to Francie is a plot element in Harry's experience of knowledge and relevant to the story, but you get a sense of it without reading the section: Francie dies. Jealous obsession is the cause. That fictional event even makes me sad as I wrote it. I love my characters, can't imagine them being hurt, even the minor ones. Our world has too much hate for people who are different. 
> 
> Would love comments. If you are shy to comment here, message me on Tumbler. I'm Palosquared.

It's cold, insanely cold, leaving the States on a December morning as snowing is falling. How do planes work at such extremes? Harry is happy that he and the others leaving for the UK are taking the same flights. He needs their companionship and only Niall, Zayn and Liam can really understand Harry's point of view. 

It was nip and tuck the last week for Harry. There was a moment when Harry thought he'd blown it. On the afternoon of the big quarterly party, where announcements are made of who progresses as happens with each seasonal shift, things were a little too chaotic as can happen at these hallmark celebrations. 

Harry snapped. It is triggered by a discovery about Nazir and it almost caused him to have his release reverted. 

The incident started because Harry was sadder than unusual. He'd come from his final farewell with Will. For the last month of more of Harry's tenure he had been going regularly with Kyla, Zayn, Niall and Liam to Will's ranch for ski-joring training of the horses. Each visit became a time when Harry would linger after the training was done, Kayla and the other three would leave, but Harry ours stay and visit with Will. Every visit Will sent Harry home later having told program staff that he was getting some winter projects done "thanks to Harry's help". While a little of that was true, and the Bar 3 Ranch was happy yo have one on theirs help an elderly neighbor, mostly Will and Harry sat and talked for hours, drinking tea, coffee or dome home brew Will wanted Harry to try. 

Every conversation was a new story about Will's life with Francie. Every visit gave Harry another picture that Will took of the boys from the special weekend up at the lake. How they never noticed, Harry couldn't fathom. But Will had captured much of the last 48 hours that Harry was with Louis. Harry and Louis on the cattle drive, with the other three too, all five at the lake. Candid shots and powerful images of friendship in all of them. 

Each time visiting Will was also a great opportunity for Harry to share his dreams for returning home. Each passing day took Harry closer to Louis. And with the pictures Will had opportunistically snapped of them up at the lake, it was easier for Harry to see returning to Louis as in his reach because Harry got some new image of Louis to ease their painful separation. 

But on the last visit, it was doubly hard. For one, Harry was saying goodbye to a dear friend, which Will had become, and secondly, because he finally heard the story of Will and Francie, how it ended, which Kyla had only for warned was "brutal". It was, indeed, heartbreaking. It sent chills into Harry's heart. The two men had been so much in love, so happily together. And Francie was taken from Will. In his prime. Given that Louis was as much a modern-day copy of Francie, as Harry's is like a younger-Will, this made the story all the more visceral for Harry. 

He returned from Will's ranch clutching a picture of Louis that Harry wanted to share immediately with his mates. He also needed to tell them the story about how Francie died. It was too hard to keep to himself. 

Harry went to find them and with the end of session party planning it was chaos around the ranch. After an unsuccessful search he saw Nazir sitting off to the side in a lodge writing in his journal. Usually program attendees respected that journalling time signaled to each of them to leave someone alone, respect this was part of their process, but Harry needed to find his friends. 

He approached Nazir. The lad defensively slammed his journal shut. 

"Sorry Nazir, chill, just hoping you know where Zayn is. That's all."

"Not here. What are you looking at?"

"I'm not looking at anything" Harrry says. He detects a weird tone in Nazir's voice. "Looking at nothing except you, because we are talking. People normally look at who they are talking to Nazir. I didn't see anything in your book." 

"So why sneak up? Zayn isn't here. That is my picture. Not yours." 

Harry is utterly confused. He's holding a picture of Louis, but Nazir can't know that. So what picture is Nazir talking about?

"What are you talking about? It's not your picture. It's mine." Harry says, still not understanding why Nazir is talking about pictures and specially a picture of Louis that Harry just received visiting Will. Then it occurs to Harry. He walked up and Nazir wasn't writing in his private journal. His fingers were tracing a page in his book but his hands were empty of pen or pencil. 

Nazir nervously stands and he clutches his journal to his chest. He's backing away. Nazir who is taller than Harry, very fit in every way looks afraid. He shows fear on his face and Harry begins to realize why. 

"Nazir. What picture are you talking about?" Harry flashes to Nazir a fleeting look at the one he has in his hand, a photograph of Louis. It's one of the many Will took up at the lake. This one is of Louis standing on the giant rock and playing king of the hill. It's hard to see details, but it's clear he's nude. It's an appealing picture. The curvature of his bum is magnificent in profile. Nazir's eyes flash with interest at the fleeting glimpse but he keeps backing away clutching his journal protectively.

"Nothing! He gave it to me! I didn't steal it!"

That snapped Harry. He lunges at Nazir. Putting Nazir in a headlock with ease Harry begins choking Nazir who desperately tries to hold tightly onto his book of secrets.

Alarmed people begin swarming to them but Harry is uncorked with rage. It occurs to him what picture Nazir might have.

Weeks prior Zayn noticed the way Harry was beginning to become increasingly positive with their jaunts to Will's. Maybe it was the fun of the ski-joring. Or all the time all alone after the ski-joring that Harry had with wise, old Will. One thing for certain the was that the growing collection of pictures given to Harry by Will which made Harry at peace. So Zayn began to add to Harry's collections. He drew beautiful images of Louis and gave them to Harry. 

At first the pictures were portraits. Eventually they became more exotic. Soon thereafter as Harry remained unphased by the knowledge that Zayn had done it, sexual things, with Louis, pictures became nudes. Subtle at first. Then they got more graphic; Louis reclined with an erection. Louis bent over looking back as if staring into one's eyes. Or something detailed, like a closeup image of Louis' bum featuring his pretty, tight hole. 

One picture Zayn was working on was particularly coveted by Harry because it represented something Harry had never experienced with Louis. It was a work that once Harry saw Zayn's production in process. It represented one of Zayn's sexual encounters with Louis. So stirring was the fragmented work that it was immediately added to Harry's bucket list. Apparently Zayn had never gotten an image out of his mind of Louis after one of their experiences. 

It was an image of Louis seated, legs folded under him and knees spread wide. He is blindfolded and tied. The picture was nearly done when it went missing. Zayn couldn't phathom how he misplace it and a search of his room never turned up the graphic, sexual picture. Zayn swore he never took the work out of his room. Yet it was lost. 

As Harry continued to choke Nazir against the efforts of many to stop the struggle the journal fell free and out of it papers loosely stored within slid to the floor in an array. One paper, landing face up for all to see, was a drawling by Zayn with about 75 percent of the shading and color finished yet in total it was incomplete. Unfinished or not it was striking. Louis was featured sitting prone, naked, blindfolded and bound. Every detail. Like the way ropes bit into his skin grazing just under his nipples, going tight across the sides of his hips, the apparent aroused stiffness of his pretty cock which bore a bead of liquid on the slit, all of that, there for all who were breaking up this fight to see.

Other papers Nazir held secret were scattered by the scuffle. They were also items stolen. Nazir, it had come to be known, was a incurable thief. That was his reason for being a BaR 3. 

So as Harry sat on the plane at the airport he considered everything that happened his last full day at Bar 3. The story about Will and Francie. Discovery of Zayn's missing picture of Louis in Nazir's collection of stolen treasures. The way Harry almost killed him Nazir, driven by the story of obsession from Will about Francie. 

Harry couldn't take the idea of unwelcome obsessions. Not after the Will and Francie story. If Will had only read the threat from Francie's killer right than maybe Will would be growing old with his lover. Not stuck with lonely visits to his lover's grave where Will buried Francie after a young life had been taken because of a crime of passion. 

Harry needed to get home. Find his boyfriend. Never let obsession take them apart. 

*** 

In war one can never guess the way chance will take them. To anyone who was a member of the company that included Will and Frank it was obvious the two were in love. 

Will was tall and handsome. He had intensely green eyes and a head of hair that was full of curls although it was cropped short. Everyone liked him because Will had that easy gentleness about him and an amazing smile. Dimples frames his perfect mouth. He was stunning. 

Frank was stunning too, but in many ways he was Will's opposite. While Will was tall and lanky, Frank was petite and curvy. One could easily forget that Francie was almost delicate because he was physical and energetic. While Will had the ease, Frank had a bold and fearlessness. It could be said Frank had saved every member of his company at least once during the war because he acted impulsively without hestiation. 

For a few years after Will and Frank returned from the war as the became known for being together constantly "as friends" working a ranch. This seemed normal in the conservative western US. In time people in their community began to suspect. Too many women had been too often friend-zoned by both of the men. And it was the way they looked at each other even in public that became obvious over time. Their eyes spoke volumes. Occasionally they were seen out together doing their ranch work and things were odd about them upon discovery. Oddities like how when caught by surprise their lips were more red than what is normal, or their clothes were strangely disheveled like they had hastily dressed. Eventually, it was just accepted. The two men were having sex. In the ranching west, people understood privacy. So Will and Francie, as he became known, were left alone. 

In the mix of their relationship a third wheel came to town got a job as a ranger a few years after things became accepted about the lovers. Peter, who left a job in the east, was buddy a war of theirs. Indeed it was onnWill's recommendation Peter got his job. Soon enough Peter was increasingly found to be making himself intrusive. More a few locals noted how Peter was habitually going on obsessively to them about Will. To all it in the community it was apparent that Peter had "feelings" for the taller of the two secret, bonded lovers. Perhaps that's why Will tolerated the intrusiveness. Or maybe it was that Francie seemed so capable of handling himself and Put Peter in his place. But even though these things were true, some warned Will about "this easterner named Peter". Will, ever so trusting and open-hearted seemed unconcerned that a man 6'5, weighing 250, seems infatuated with him. 

On one day in the last days of golden, Rocky Mountain summer, Will was late getting off to his rendez-vous planned at his and Francie's favorite lake spot high up in the mountains. Will didn't consider the agitated way Peter left him when Will brushed Peter off who was hanging around a neighbor's ranch where Will got delayed by a ranch emergency. 

The emergency call went out to a vet. Peter, being a forest officer heard the call on the dispatcher's radio. He heard that Will was at a ranch to help in a neighbor with a sick bull, but the ranch needed a vet. Doctoring a huge, dangerous animal required a special kind of help. Will had the right horse and right roping skills to help restrain the animal so the vet could tend to it. 

The stress and danger of working with a bull was why Will was so atypically frustrated with Peter. Will would be a few hours late to meet Francie for their planed lakeside hiatus, but no worries. Peter was rather oblivious to the danger, he kept approaching Will who was one of two maintaining a rope on the hurting animal that required careful adjustments made by two such mounted, skilled ropers. Blinded by his urges, Peter got in the way of a team caring for the bull. Will snapped. 

Peter didn't understand. He saw this as no concern, being a man of the city and not schooled in the ranching ways. He kept overtly pushing in with Will, hinting, makeing advances, subtle but also riddled with sexual tension. In his mind he was thinking Francie wasn't there. Francie was at the lake. This gave Peter a chance. 

It had never enter Will's mind how Peter always flirted if Francie wasn't there and to Peter this was just opportunity. This thing with the bull has Will's singular focus. To get Peter out of their way Wiill suggested that Peter ride up and tell Francie that he would be a little late. He barked at Peter harshly and made no mistake about how Peter was not, not useful. This cut Peter to the quick. 

Only the turning heads of shock at a near public confession stopped Will. But his words made it clear. Peter was no, never, nothing like Francie. Will's heart belonged to Francie. Peter was useless in every way. 

It was only two hours later when Will rode up to the lake. Two hours since he spoke harshly to Peter and sent him to Francie. 

Peter was sitting there on a rock. He was by the lake's edge. Sitting, butt naked. At first Will assumed the two, Peter and Francie had been swimming. It was very hot, so naturally. He rode closer and his look at Peter was disturbing. There was water at Peter's reach but he hadn't washed his hands. They were red. Some red was on his face and body too. He seemed calm. Like he was somewhere else, he only nodded to Will. The the turn of his eyes directed Will's as they looked to the side. 

Will fell from his horse and his legs wouldn't work. Lying a short distance off was Francie. He was nude. Motionless. 

Will crawled, weeping to his lover's form. He'd seen enough death in war to know. Francie was still warm. Had he died before he was used? Or did Peter use him as the blood drained from his bloodied head? Was it the beating evident on Francie's face and body that subdued him before the taking or was he still fighting to the end? Will couldn't bear to know. Francie was gone, maybe leaving minutes before Will got there. 

Peter sat there unmoved as Will screamed a lover's loss cry so loud it reached the heavens. He sat there with evidence of his actions on his exposed body and only said, "If I couldn't have you, I needed to take him."


	51. This Louis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chronicles what fateful events happen at with the Styles' and the Tomlnson's over the course of 10-12 days with Harry returning home from the program at Bar 3 in mid December.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 10 May as I write and well over a foot of snow is on the ground in the Rockies and no sign of it stopping soon. I couldn't work thanks to the weather because, yeah, like Kyla, my lessons cancel in the spring with deep snow. And the ski resort is closed for the season. So hope you love this slow torture. I've enjoyed writing this. Promise, happy ending after just a bit more slow pain for poor Harry. And any reference to evil-Ashley's is purely DELIBERATE!

At the Styles' home in Cheshire the excitement is not because it is nearly Christmas. It is because Harry will be home in two days. Anne and Gemma are beside themselves with anticipation. So many gifts were hidden for an extravagant Christmas morning that there was scarcely a place to keep something undiscovered. 

In the thick of the frenzy of preparations Des goes to the secluded home office. There is a party planned later for a few days after Harry's homecoming. Everything is, well, extremely busy at the Styles' residence. Gemma and Anne are preoccupied with making a perfect homecoming for Harry, as well as baking treats for drop in visits of friends, and as gifts for neighbors. This meant Des could go to do his dirty work unseen. 

Des pulls out the basket that Anne had been accumulating letters addressed to their son. He knew the mail delivery from the day before contained yet another letter to Harry from this "Louis". Anne added it to the saved pile of Harry's private correspondence. Sitting down in the office Des removes all the letters from Louis. He's considered this;now it's time to act. In the place of letters, Des seeds the basket with other mail so as to deceive Anne that the stash is untrampered with. 

On each envelope that Des removed from the basket he writes "return to sender". Des will see to them being sent back. If it this act can deceive this Louis, the Doncaster lad might think the first order of business by Harry upon return was to refuse all his communicae. If lucky, Des will only have to nip a few more of these letters as they come in, or rather these pornographic ramblings, before their "return to sender" label will suggest an ask for cessation. Harry would appear to return home and on first order of business jilt this Louis. 

Perfect.

***

The day Harry arrives home it is about ten days before Christmas. His family is thrilled to see him. It's the holiday season. Everything is festive and they even have a big party planned for him. Harry is glad the official welcome home party for his return is a few days away as he is exhausted; he goes to bed almost as soon as he arrives home. 

Harry wakes late the next day having had a night's restless sleep. His sleep was disrupted constantly by a cyclically repeated nightmare probably brought on by fatigue, long travel and the terrible story about about Francie that Will shared with Harry right before Harry left the States for home. 

In these dreams Harry sees a scene at the lake. It's not an actual memory from his beautiful time there with Louis and the others. Instead this dream is a mix of Harry's experiences and Will's story. In the dream he sees Nazir with Louis. But it's a scene as implied by Will about what happened with Peter and Francie. Harry sees Nazir take Louis, then leave him for dead. 

This disturbingly suggestive nightmare which wakens Harry in a fright leaves him put off around his family the next day. Nevertheless Harry is relieved to be home. "It is only a nightmare" he convinces himself repeatedly. Harry hopes that he will see his remedy, his Louis, soon. 

*** 

The program at Bar 3 tries to prepare their graduates well. One thing they coach their departing attendees is to understand that the boy's families, upon receiving their loved ones home, won't always behave normally at first. 

"Don't expect immediate trust." 

Accept strick guidelines." 

As Harry and the other leave they know that rigid and protectively defensive behaviors are the norm at first. Like all graduates they are taught to remember, it gets better among family once they see changes are real, new patterns are in place. Trust can be earned. 

*** 

Des Styles is a man cut from a particularly rigid cloth. Harry knows this. So the set of strick parameters that Des lays out for Harry are normal for what Harry is expecting even without and counseling foreshadowing that this is the common experience. 

Harry reserves his urge to immediatley contact Niall, Zayn and Liam. He knows they are in the same situation as him at their homes. 

More than that Harry attempts to withhold from the pull of Louis. In fact he is so guarded, he doesn't really talk of Louis at all when he mentions his mates from "camp", as he and his family are calling the program. But as Harry settles into his room he adds new pictures and if his sister or mum asks he glosses over details. Both mum are his sister can't resist, hovering and curiously seeking to reconnect and hear stories. Harry is careful to focus on something about Niall, Zayn or Liam. Often, with things being so busy with the holidays and his return, a phone call or spontaneous visit of a neighbor will distract the women and the subject of Louis remains anyonmous. Louis is only a face in a photograph. Harry gives him no name. Harry is protective. 

Yet on most nights Harry wakes, too many dreams, he sneaks from his home once his family is soundly asleep, bound for Doncaster. Harry is always back before dawn. He never quite makes it to the address he found for the Tomlinsons before he fears something and turns around with a dreadful sense of vacancy. He aches for Louis; so close and yet so far. 

Each morning Harry's family finds he's sound asleep in his bed. His family never knows he'd almost ran away from home. 

But no. 

Not away from home.

To it.

To Louis.

It is also just, well....Harry expected to come home to something from Louis. Yet sorting through his giant basket of mail his mum saved there's not even a cryptic postcard or unmarked letter from Louis. Nothing. 

***

In London on December 15th Louis wakes, starts his day; he remembers how it was when he left Bar 3. Even though he was an innocent he recalls that the program counsels their arrivals from day one about the goals; the goal is to get home and they immediately work at teaching each lad that when they go home eventually they face the real work. The work of avoiding incarceration and building trusts anoung those who've given up on them. 

So Louis accepts that on the first day home, and maybe for weeks after, his friends from Bar 3 returning to their lives from the program will face scrutiny, uncertainty and lack of freedoms. Those person that Harry, Liam, Zayn and Niall betrayed at home would have a "reserved" trust. Even if Louis wasn't himself guilty of some crime he expected that for his mates just arriving back there would be a lot of work at home to rebuild relationships. 

Louis knows, with his four friends, they wouldn't be calling him on their first day back in the UK. So if Harry was leaving the program around mid December...patience, Louis thought. He needs to be patient. After all Harry had to have received the months of letters from him, Louis reassures himself. It will be soon he will hear back from Harry. Patience. Give it at least a few days. 

As it is less than two weeks before his birthday, Louis is beginning to find birthday cards in his mail. Stan and Hanna want to plan a party. They are so excited to meet Louis' Curly and the others, his friends Zayn, Liam and maybe Niall if he comes over from Ireland. 

As Louis leaves work later in the day he is thinking only of Harry. Harry's hands, his lips, his hair, his voice. In Louis' hand he has a letter he's sending off to Harry. He drops it in the outgoing post slot then goes to open his postbox with the key. There is a note telling him he had too many items for his box; he is to collect at central.

A few hours later Louis is drunk at the bar around the corner from his flat. The items he went to collect? It was every letter he'd ever written to Harry except the one he'd just posted. Only one of the letters he sent to Harry since he started writing them was opened. It, like all the others, was returned. Every secret. Every sonnet. Every dick pic. All the envelopes were marked "return to sender".

When it gets late and Louis is very drunk, tired of being eyed by a guy at the pub, he begins to need desperately to talk to someone. He was expecting Greg to have been by for a brew as was usual. Greg had not joined him and this is very atypical of Greg, his new best mate. Almost daily Louis and Greg have a beer together and share stories of their day. 

Checking his phone Louis reads a text from Greg he'd missed seeing. It says, "You won't believe this! Cold called and interviewed for an amazing job! Going directly home to pack and, yes, pack! I leave immediately for an adventure, got the job. Come by mine and say goodbye? Out of the country for a year. Will miss you, xo G."

There are lots of text from Louis' family too. Christmas plans, plans for his birthday. Louis doesn't answer them directly. He instead calls his long time friend Stan. 

Stan answers and he quickly detects his mate is knackered. Louis tells Stan he walking to a friend's. The friend is moving. But that's not why Louis called. Louis says he is calling because, his love, the one he's told Stan about a thousand times, that one, the lover for whom Louis was counting days until he returned, is home. Stan knows exactly how significant this Curly leaving Bar 3 is because he is all that Louis talks about. But now? Louis just didn't expect the first thing Curly would do is returned all his letters. Louis says, stumbling over his words with the emotion, "-e's made it pretty clear, I'd say, we are done. He sent them all back and no explanation, Stan." 

Stan hears the emotion, all the pain, the breaking frailty of Louis' voice and he pleads with Louis. "Go home Louis, go home. Sleep this off and we can talk in the morning. It sounds like you're on the street, it worries me. You said you love this Curly. He loves you, I believe it is true from all your stories. You can't know why the letters came back so don't make assumptions."

Stan goes on being a voice of reason. He knows Louis well and he believes this "Harry", or "Curly", as Louis calls him, is special. Louis never talked about anyone else before like he does about Harry. Stan also recalls that the other friends from the US program, the Brits Liam and Zayn, the Irish Niall, will be back too. He guesses they will have ideas about this odd turn of events. 

"Go home Louis, sleep it off". Stan says just before Louis ends the call. Louis is standing at Greg's door with Greg just answering it.

Twelve hours later Louis is wakened as a plane lands in Mangua Nicaragua. Greg pulls Louis from his seat and they deplane. Louis has with him his clothes on his back, a phone and his passport. As they stand in line at customs to enter the country they've just flown to Greg keeps a dispondent Louis pulled tight against him. Louis is pressing against Greg because he can't stand. Is it the alcohol? Is it the pain? He keeps talking only about "letters" and nothing he says makes sense. Greg has to keep an arm around Louis at all times. Louis is so drunkenly depressed that he has slid into a mental exhaustion. 

After they collect Greg's bag they head to customs. The line is busy, full of holiday travelers jostling about. Greg keeps Louis tucked into him with a swelling need building in him. Louis lets Greg take his phone because Louis needs to hold on to someone. 

Minutes after taking Louis' phone Greg lets it slide from his hand to the floor when they are surrounded by people pressing on in line as can happen at port of customs at an airport. Louis is practically sleeping standing cuddled into Greg who easily holds his small treasure tight against his chest. Greg kisses the top of Louis' head and eyes the crowd around them to see if anyone saw the deliberate discard. Greg knows a commodity like a lost phone will be snatched up soon, never to be recovered. Now the only possession Louis has is his clothes and the passport held in Greg's hand.

***

Christmas cards arrive to the Styles home as they have done in ever building droves as the holiday gets closer.

It's three days before Christmas. In the huge array of "Seasons Greetings" Des sorts. Many cards are addressed to Harry. None of them bear the familiar handwriting of Louis Tomilinson. It's been over a week and no more letters came. Louis must have received his unopened letters. What is done is done.

Harry also sifts though the letters. He had posted some of his own a few days prior. He's not surprised when he discovers that he recieved some from the reciprocal addresse he mailed his off to. Among cards from old friends Harry sees the names, Horan, Malix, and Payne. Notably, there's no card from Doncaster. Nothing bearing the name Tomlinson. 

***

On Christmas Eve Day Anne sent Harry to the store. That was hours ago and instead of being home he sits in the car parked on the street directly in front of the Tomlinson family home. His mother's groceries are in the seat beside him of the sportscar he drove here. 

"What am I doing?" Harry asks himself.

He's been there long enough he's seen family come and go. All of them are girls. It's apparent these girls are Louis' sisters. They look just like him. Big, expressive eyes. Insanely pretty in that cute way. The youngest two appear to be twins.

Harry is thinking he should try going to the front door. He reaches around for a fleece bomber jacket that is an early Christmas present from his mum that is on the seat beside him, when he is startled by a rap in his window when his back is momentarily turned away. 

Standing there on the sidewalk peering in at him are two of the presumed Tomlinson sisters. One is short and blond, the other is much taller, brunette with red highlights much the same color hair as Louis'. Both girls have their arms crossed over themselves defensively and look angry. He knows the look; he's been given "the look" from Louis before like when he tried to resist giving Louis the shagging Louis begged for on that one day when they went to get horses alone. 

"Hello. Can I help you?" Harry says with his window lowered down slightly.

"Don't you mean, can WE help you?" The blond says. She seems to be the older of the two even though she's tiny like Louis.

The taller, brunette girl is easily an inch, maybe more in height than Louis. She's much taller than her sister. Harry studies her because she seems the most intense in her scowling at him. She also seems to be a very confident, assertive girl. She goes so far as to put her hand on his half-open window. This act suggests he had better keep the window from being raised and she speaks to Harry with more anger than the smaller blond girl. 

"We'd like to know why you are sitting on our front door watching us for hours. It was past being creepy after the first thirty minutes of it. Who are you? Why are you watching our house like this?"

"I'm a, I'm a friend of Louis. From the US."

"Get out." The brunette says as she opens Harry's door holding it wide. Harry can only surmise this girl has got to be a Tomlinson. Spite fire, asre-kicking, fearless like a Tomlinson.

*** 

Shortly after he was ordered from his car, Harry is sitting in the modest home of Louis' family having tea with an offering of cookies at his reach on the coffee table in front of where he is sat. He is nervous. Harry can't remember when he felt so nervous. Beside him sits the pretty, doll-like blond beauty called Lottie. Lottie, he learned, is Louis' oldest sister.

Across from him sits Jay, who is Louis' mum. 

Both Jay and her daughter Lottie are petite, maybe 5'2. Harry sees a lot of Louis in the mum. The taller sister, Fizzy, the second oldest, Harry learned, has taken the two youngest sisters, twins Phoebe and Daisy, and the three of them are in the kitchen baking something. Harry has learned that Louis' father Mark is at work. Fizzy's assertiveness made Harry frightened. He's glad Lottie is beside him not her. 

Even though Lottie seems sweet, Harry's nervousness builds. It's impossible not to feel that when he is so excited to see Louis. But Fizzy, or Felicite, as her mum called her when she sent the taller daughter off with the younger girls had a harsh tone to her, like Harry wasn't welcomed. It was as if Fizzy knew something about Harry and she didn't like him because of it. Sitting now in their home Harry sensed a curiosity in Jay and Lottie. Curious, a bit nervousness in them too, but mostly they seemed genuinely interested in something. 

"So you're Harry. Your exactly as Louis described you." Jay says breaking the ice. It doesn't say described good or bad. Just "exactly as described". 

Harry takes a cup she hands him and Jay pours him some tea. Harry's fingers feel like rubber and he nearly drops the cup. Lottie saves him, she steadies his hand. She even smiles. Her smile is warm and Harry shakes his nerveousness off a little because of the kindness. 

"I'm sorry to come by uninvited. But I had to see Louis." 

Jay and Lottie looked at each other. "Louis' friends are welcome anytime." Jay said. 

Something of her tone was formal and Harry felt that Jay was not naturally an overly formal person. As he sipped the first taste of tea it's warmth offset something the formalality, the nervousness. Or maybe it was awkwardness. 

Harry catches a glimpse of Fizzy sticking her head out to peak from the kitchen out of the corner of his eye. He sees Lottie sign at Fizzy to go away. Lottie shakes her head "no" at Fizzy and turns to Harry. 

Okay. So...awkward. 

"Louis talks a lot about me, then?" Harry floats the subject with innocence. "Enough you recognized me?" 

"In Doncaster we don't have a lot of young people driving expensive cars like that. Not many teenagers sit parked in our neighborhood. It drawls attention. Then we see its driver fits the description to a perfect detail of Curly, what Louis said he calls Harry Styles." 

Harry gets uncomfortable about the car, one of his father' many. It didn't matter which one he drove. They all are conspicuous and say "money". Looking around this house Harry felt certain that Louis was from a more modest family. But then again, like everything with Louis, how could he know? His assessment of the home made him aware of something he'd overlooked in the first few minutes. In addition to seasonal Christmas decorations there were birthday decorations. Balloons were tied to a banister of the stairs. Over the archway between the sitting room where they were and the dinning room was a banner that said "Happy Birthday". Cupcakes. The girls in the kitchen are making cupcakes. It's someone's birthday. 

What happened next floored Harry. 

He asked who's birthday it was. 

The answer? 

"Louis'." 

Harry then learns that the twins are making Louis' favorite cupcakes. The family hopes Louis will "show up". They don't hold out hope. Not sure what excuse to make for the twins. It's a story that becomes quickly disturbing. 

Events cascade out from there. Every few words into the story Jay glances to make sure her youngest aren't in earshot. It gets uncomfortable for Harry fast. 

Harry learns that Louis was aware Harry got back around mid-December. So also, Louis reportedly told his family, had Niall, Zayn and Liam. Each of them had been "in touch" with Louis. They had sent notes from home, a card suggesting the group from Bar 3 meet up after Christmas, by the way, according to Louis they included here their address, phone, so on. Each of them also expressed plans to go to London. But a few days after Louis had been excitedly telling his family that all his friends from the program were getting home soon they got a shock from Louis. 

Jay goes on to explain Louis had been living in London. He called them about a week ago to say he was going for a weekend "with someone" to Latin America. 

Jay makes those annoying air quotes when she says "with someone". This spontaneous trip is a bit of a mystery Jay suggests, because, well, whose goes around the globe for a weekend with a person like this "someone" who friends and family have never met or heard of? 

Jay goes on to say that Louis was short about any details. Jay recalls to Harry how she pressed him, concerned about the oddity of a lavish travel for a weekend jaunt. She argued it was not like if Louis lived in LA and was sprinting a couple hours away to Vegas for a weekend. This was around the globe. And, she tells Harry, it is not like Louis has extra money to burn. He is saving for Uni and living on low wage job and tips working in London. 

And with that she says the thing. "I reminded Louis that he was looking forward to this, the date when he said you and the others, his good friends from the ranch in the States, were getting back home to England. He had been talking about nothing else for weeks. So I asked Louis what about you and the other lads." 

Jay pauses and looks at Lottie. She continues. "He said to me, 'I guess sometimes there are just signs to move on. Maybe sex is just sex, not love.'" 

When the sting of this leaves Harry's mind he realizes that he's sitting in his so-called boyfriend' house and what his so-called boyfriend told his mum about Harry is, "m o v i n g on, s e x is just sex." 

It's a crushing feeling. But being in this house, it's hominess, the familiarity of the family because they look so much like Louis, the way it's so ironic that it's Louis birthday and Harry did not even know that! So it's like nothing makes sense. 

The thing that does make sense is Harry's natural reaction. He can't breathe. Harry hopes know one can see this panic. A panic which afflicted him so deeply for the first time ever when he fell in love. With Louis. 

He is grateful he is spared having to talk while he has no breath. Fizzy looks out form the kitchen again and snaps at her sister, "Have you asked him yet?" 

So there's still more. Fizzy said "him" about Harry like Harry is pond scum, a four lettered word in her view. She's so protective. Harry makes his neurons do the logic and it's a strain. 

According to Jay, Louis knew Harry, a lover, was going to be back. Harry is thinking "lover" because the word Jay said was "sex", not lover. There's a difference. Sex is an act. Love is an emotion. You can have one without the other. 

Summing up the statement by Jay that Louis said was this sequence: Harry would be back, Louis said to her, and Louis was "moving on" and that what Louis had with Harry "was just sex". Nothing more. 

There's a funny thing about stark, cold-shock reality. The things it gives clarity is weird....Harry's first thought is that everyone at Bar 3 that Louis confided in had Louis wrong; Louis was actually only a player, a whore. And yet Fizzy is snappy and judging Harry. 

Harry jumps up like he is going to leave. He turns around 360 degrees because honestly his head is spinning. Two set of hands take his arms and they guide or direct him back to sit on the couch. He wants to run away but just now Harry can't. It's too much. 

Harry sits and he pants in as quiet a fashion as he can. He's rocking a bit in his seat and he hopes no one knows why. In his chest the pain is like his heart is literally dropping. It hurts so bad Harry is certain organs are ripping as it burns through them in the heart's free fall. 

Jay's voice softens. A hand lightly touches Harry's knee. Leaning in like to make sure no one but she, Lottie and Harry can hear she speaks. 

"Harry, we all know how young love can be. I'm sorry if you've come to find another opportunity to just, you know. Do that, the stuff," 

Lottie looks frustrated. Her mum's choice of words maybe? Confirming it Lottie blurts out, "It's okay Mum, you can say that you know Louis and Harry were fucking around. We are all old enough to use that word, alrighty." 

Jay blushes and she practically slaps her daughter lips as she muzzles them in her hands.

"Lottie, please." Jay can see some massive discomfort on Harry's face. She uses a soft voice again with him and says, "I'm sorry Harry. But I have a son who's is missing and I not sure if it's a run away with a new lover or something darker. You coming here is a surprise. It suggests, well. Anyway, the thing is because of why Louis was forced to go to that program with all those...um, young people who are..."

"My Mum is trying to say Louis was stuck with a bunch of deviants and we are worried his with one now. Louis wouldn't just up and leave like this. So either his gotten persuaded by the wrong type, someone like you, or the person who made him go to that camp for juvenile delinquents has gone farther than anyone would think to get vengeance."

Maybe it's the dream Harry had, the way the dream was a linking of Harry's world and Will's, but a piece of Harry's breaking heart flutters with protectiveness over the suggestion Louis is in trouble. 

"I don't understand," Harry's says soft and low. He's keeping his eyes down because he's hurt and confused. Now he's also worried. "There's no one at the, none of us would, I mean that Louis didn't have deep roots with anyone from the program other than me, Zayn, Liam and Niall. What is the vengeance you are talking about? I honestly never heard why Louis came to Bar 3. He left one night without saying goodbye. After that we were told he was sent to Bar 3 by mistake and so he was released. That's it."

"Harry, I was there the night he left." Jay says. "I went personally to see him home. He'd been forced there because the wrong girl got her father convinced that Louis was her unborn baby's father. When a man has the power to use the courts like he does it gives him a lot of options. He was looking for the worst place he could put Louis. It took a while for us to disprove this claim. The girl was claiming this baby was Louis' for awhile. We didn't know. It's absurd because Louis is gay. Not to say he couldn't have had sex with a girl. But Louis only had one girlfriend his entire life. Hanna. They are still friends. But Hanna, like my girls Lottie and Fizzy when she was old enough just knew Louis was gay. She was so close to Louis since they were young. Hanna loved Louis enough to know gay is normal and yet, since they've been friends forever, she played along. I don't think Hanna liked the attention of most boys; she's very pretty. A boyfriend made her feel safe. It's was easier, you see, for Mark's family too that Louis had this pretty girlfriend. My father-in-law, Louis' grandparents, the twins, none of them need to know. When Phoebe and Daisy are older, they'll figure it out."

"Anyway, this spoiled, pregnant girl, Ashley, has always hated Hanna and liked Louis. She recently got jealous because she wanted to be in this musical that Louis and Hanna were in. It's a long story. They both got the leads, she went pretty crazy saying the lead role should have been hers. I think she had sex with the man who cast the parts, but he betrayed her. She lashed out when she got pregnant and the person she decided to name to her father as getting her pregnant was Louis. When the baby was born we were able to show this child is not Louis'. The man who was in charge of the musical came forward. That got Louis released. But even if Louis were a father in an unplanned pregnancy it is a misuse of justice. You don't put an eighteen year old in, well."

This still confusing for Harry. He asks. "If this man has done something before to Louis, why aren't the police involved?"

"They are. We reported it after the weekend he left passed and he wasn't back to work. His boss called. Louis hasn't been to his apartment either. When it had been enough time that the police took a report. They've told us to ask anyone he's in contact with, even casually where he might be, who h might be with. You sitting out there in a car that says "look at this unusual thing in your front garden" screams for us to question you."

Now Harry feels less bothered by Fizzy. He also can see Jay is frightened. It's her son's birthday. Harry knows Louis was eighteen. Today he turns nineteen but, an image in Harry's head superimposes Francie's fate over Louis'.

"So the police have done nothing."

Lottie gets up and brings a folder over which she hands to he mum. Jay opens it. Harry's eyes fix on the grainy, black and white images and seize the story laid out in five security camera pictures marked with a police code. 

There are two men in what appears to be the Heathrow airport. One is very tall, thin, dark hair. It's hard to make out his face. He's got his arms around a small form that Harry knows immediately is Louis. That body. In one of the pictures where they are pressed together the tall guy is cupping Louis' arse in a way as incorrect as possible for public, bacically he's groping booty. In every picture Louis is turned into this man. It's like they are lovers. It's very, very convincing.

"They found these so they are thinking he is off with a lover and we have no reason to fear anything. It's not police business. We know Louis wouldn't leave like that. It's just not him. But his phone isn't working. The phone company said they've track it's last location of use as Miami Florida. There's a picture of them in the airport there too according to a US source. It shows Louis and this tall man in the terminal that has departures for Mexico and Central America. We haven't gotten it from the US to the police here to look for details because no one thinks this is narfarious. And Louis is, well..."

Jay is starting to say eighteen, but no. Now Louis is nineteen. Jay can't finish her words. She gets up clearly wanting to hide unstoppable tears and she leaves the room.

Lottie stands and directs Harry like he should go. The sound of the young girls in the kitchen make him understand. 

Harry still has so many questions. He wants to know where Louis worked. Where he lived in London. Or see Louis' room at the Tomlinson home. Harry scans the room and everywhere he looks are family pictures. Louis with his sisters. Louis as a little boy. Louis with his Nanna. There's a picture of Louis and some school friends. Harry notices a blond girl whose arm is around Louis and he guesses that is Hanna. She's very pretty. She's taller than Louis, but they make a nice couple. It's killing him to see his Louis in every picture smiling, pixie-like, the very essence of the meadow sprite Harry fell in love with on that day with Snowball and yet realize perhaps this Louis was never his. He's with this tall guy. Some trip for a few days becomes over a week. No end in sight. 

The story of Louis was nothing like what Harry imagined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This sets up for the next thing to drop: Michael has Louis' hastily written note.


	52. The note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's world falls apart a little. After he's back home he's conflicted about his path, uncertain about Louis even though his worries pulled at his heart. He goes to London on his father's request. The decision is fateful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've written this with a fake-Eleanor/non-shaming character. Also, just be aware, Michael seems an arse but maybe that gets worked out in the wash, we'll see. The real me is a huge fan of 5sos and Michael is exactly like one of my favorite ex' bf....not likely even my fake-Michael is too bad in my big scheme of things so don't hate him too much.

March rolls around and Harry has been back from the States for about three months. Des was working out of his London office and and requests Harry's company, "some father and son time away from your mum and sis".

Somehow in the days following Christmas Harry the Styles' noticed Harry began to fall through the cracks. Unaware of his secret visit to Louis' house on Louis' birthday, Christmas Eve, they could only see that something was eating away at Harry. Unlike his friends from the Bar 3 program who are reportedly happily and seeking opportunities after Bar 3, Harry is fallorned. He is like a compass spinning that can't find north. Or better yet, a ship adrift w i t h o u t a compass.

Things about Harry seem better, at least superficially, to his family about Harry only after he has contact with his old mates from Bar 3, so Anne convinces Harry to go with be with Des because Anne knows Harry has three good friends from the program living in London. She tells Harry as he reluctant about going, "Since all you do is write in your journal Harry, you can go make your father happy and still have time to write. And you'll see your friends while in London. It will be good. Like a little holiday." Anne can't help but try to be optimistic, she believes Harry is different, transformed. He's not behaving as a sexual predator and yet while that is true she doesn't see him moving forward with any plans or direction. 

Anne is touched by Harry's one comment when they are talking about the London option.. The were talking one morning over breakfast. Anne asked Harry if he could tell her what she could do to help him in getting back into something he enjoys and wants to do, school or job. Harry tells her not to be concerned, he'll figure it out on his own. Then he adds, "it's...it is like I don't know what to do because it's like something I need is far away from me, I don't know where or why it's not here."

After this talk Anne is befuddled, but she remains convinced of only one thing. There's something about Harry's relationship with his friends. Anne suspects Harry is going to enjoy the chance of seeing the threesome of Liam, Niall and Zayn. 

She's okay with the risk of Des exerberantly trying to model Harry in his own image because she knows the risk with his father is less than a loneliness she feels emanating from Harry. Des always insists that "this", meaning power finance, "is in Harry's blood". His father is going to try to persuade Harry to work in the business and feel the rush of power in making deals that average in the millions. Anne leaves Harry to decide. 

*** 

Harry chooses to go to London. His three friends are now living near the university in London. Each of them are busy with new professional developments like Harry should be engaged in too. For this reason, Harry tells his mum Harry he's decides to take the offer to be with Des. More importantly though, Harry privately decides to go because of the curiously about Louis in London.

After a couple days in there Harry finds he has to wait for the opportunity to fit in seeing his three friends around their work schedules. Having a lot of time alone to reflect Harry's mind makes a jumble of things, a mix of worlds. He makes excuses to his father about what he will being doing each day to try to stay away from the office. An unhealthy habit starts when Des leaves for work and Harry goes back to bed. 

Harry sleeps with a dream world that is unpredictable. It's often a mix of nightmares with fantasy. He repeatedly has images tainted by the haunting story of Francie. By comparison, his wakeful is world where his mind tries to battle his dreams, to reconstruct every actual memory he had of his Louis, and write them down. As much as Harry fears the Louis he writes about was not the Louis he gave his heart to, he fears more letting that sliver of hope go. Louis is his one true love. To cope, Harry often flips his sleep regime. He'll sleep all day while Des is at work, stay awake all night writing.

For hours on end Harry journals everything he and Louis did. What it felt like. What Louis said. He titled his entries under his section "They don't know about us."

Observations that Anne had made to Harry about his friends is the most persuasive thing keeping Harry patient in London. He'd has to admit that when he has seen the three of them on several prior occasions between the holidays and March, always in London, it was inspirational. Niall, Liam and Zayn had taken a flat together, each healthily pursuing a dream. This is what Harry needed. Life and purpose. It's just hard waiting through a entire school/work week in his self-imposed isolation. He is renascent to go to his father's work, so it is what it is.

Liam checks in with Harry by phone in the morning. He can't wait until Friday to see Harry, he tells Harry. He is always very detailed about what his day ahead with his training in fire and rescue will entail. It's clear to Harry that Liam is trying not to boast, but Harry doesnt mind giving Liam kudos and a pat on the back for this pursuit. After how their relationship started, Harry still feels guilt for being so unkind to a person as big-hearted as Liam. Every time he praises Liam, Harry feels better about healing their rocky past.

Zayn was a later sleeper so he would call Harry innthenafternoons. Also expressing the excitement for seeing Harry at week's end, Zayn seemed insanely busy. At Uni he was staying art. Outside of those responsibilities Zayn was also volunteering at an art museum and with a program for troubled youth using art. Zayn seemed crazily happy. It was hard to believe he was the formerly so reclusive and mysterious one. To hear him on the phone now it hardly seemed like he was the same person. 

It was Niall whose drew Harry out the most. Niall was at Uni studying sound engineering and working part time at a London recording studio. His internship at the studio was giving Niall much exposure to the music world and somehow he thought this might lead to he and Harry working together on writng some music. 

More than once Niall, tells Harry he has met some young, up coming singer who has struggles with proving themselves because they were weak as song writers. He gives Harry an example of a girl from Nashville, Taylor. 

"This Taylor was horendously bad at writing music. i discovered her crying in a closet, afraid of her team! Fearing they would abandon her. So I've decided to help her out. He gave her the basic rift of a song. A few lines. She got a pass on her effort with that. I'm essentially ghost-writing for her."

After that Niall tells Harry he realized he was drawling from his experiences back in the States. "Harry I think this is a huge area to explore. And you are a good writer. I think we should hook you up with some people I know. You should move here. We can talk about this when the four of us meet up. If you're writing about your experiences, it doesn't have to be locked away in your book. It might help you move forward.." 

After that conversation with Niall Harry talks by phone with his mum. She hears a sadness in his voice "Harry, if you need to fill your time until the weekend, still not interested in Des' money-mongering side, at least think of London as an opportunity. Where do you need to be? What do you want, need? Harry, you need to figure this out or you know your father will start pushing ou again. Think about what you want, love." 

Harry takes the advice. He writes about his muse, Louis. Okay maybe this is not what his mum meant. But it's what has him so messed up so Harry writes an outline. Maybe just an outline will shine a light on a path. 

Louis was working in London. 

At a coffee shop. 

Louis dressed in tight pants and wearing a barista apron making espresso, lattes... Harry writes. 

Harry puts his pen down and reads these fragments. 

The image Harry creates in this fiction is erotic: Louis in tight pants with an apron Harry could only wish to see Louis in, wearing nothing else under it. It would be good, Harrry decides, to check out this "Every Last Bean" place. His mum said it, "think about what you love." 

***

Harry walks into a London coffee shop, Every Last Bean, where Louis worked for several months after he was released from Bar 3 and sent away from Doncaster for his protection. 

In a phone call to Jay the day before Harry asked her for the name of this place. Jay was very happy to faciltate this little investigation because it was now a solid three months since Louis left London. Louis had by all measures, vanished. If Harry thought he felt lost, he couldn't imagine what Jay Tomlinson was going through. Over the phone she sounded tired. Drained. She thanked Harry for this. 

At the coffee shop Harry goes to buy a drink. The girl at the till takes his order and starts to walk off as there are no customers behind Harry. Someone else is making Harry's order. Harry stops the girl which takes little effort, because the instant she looked at Harry this girl blushed and smiled followed by giddiness and giggling. She was clearly immediately attracted to Harry. Was it his smile, his eyes, his hair? She labeled his cup, "silky long curls". Seeing this label makes Harry gets a flick of pain. It's a label reminiscent of things Louis. 

He asks the barista if she knew a former employee, Louis Tomlinson, who worked at the shop a few months ago. The blushing girl says she's new, so "no", she'll get the manager for Harry. This girl really likes Harry, it's obvious. She wants to do anything for his attention. 

Eleanor. Her name is Eleanor. She has deep brown eyes. Long dark hair. She's thin, tall and beautiful. Her smile is meek but her eyes have a twinkle like she had another side to her. Eleanor worked at the coffee shop when Louis was employed. She was assistant manager then. Now she is head manager and the only person still at the coffee shop who knew Louis except by "reputation". 

"Louis," Eleanor says, "Who can ever forget Louis! He was so fun, lively, cute. Our sales spiked during his work hours...especially with our desired demographic to build sales with, male customers of the professional set. Not to say the girls didn't love him too, but something about a boy so cute, it puts a lot of girls off. You know? They hate it when the cute, twinky gay boys steal the best guys."

Harry loves this Eleanor. She is so refreshingly honest. It doesn't hurt that her employee Max, a decidedly gay male, comes by and kisses her cheek because she has an obviously good relatioship with all of her employees. From this Harry knows this girl is just easy to be around. He can trust her to answer personal questions.

"Don't mind him." Eleanor says as she sends Max away because he hovers a bit, cleaning the already clean tables around them, eavesdropping. "Max heard you were asking about Louis and he's jealous. You see he was hired right after Louis dropped off the planet and he's worried my ex-bgf is going to come back and steal his job." 

"Exucse me, ex, ex...b-g-f? I don't follow?"

"Best Gay Friend, Louis. Louis was my best gay friend." Eleanor looked like she needed a cigarette when she said that. Something about her mannerisms, strangley to Harry, a gay man, was appealing. Then she makes it clear. "You see Harry I have a kink for gay men." Eleanor looks up and down Harry. Her drinking in of him as she confesses says it all.

She leans in closer and whispers in Harry's ear with a breath that tickles. "I see things in my head. Like for example, I can envision you and, say Max. When I picture you two together intimately it's gets me all warm. Or, okay. I can see your here about Louis, I so can totally fantasize about you and him. In my imagination he's bent over that bar behind us. You are, you know. And that thought? That thought to me Harry, lets say I'm wet from picturing it. I swear I need some kind of psychiatric help. No shame."

Harry is momentarily shocked. His head is filled too with image of what Eleanor said. He had been dreaming of Louis wearing only a barista apron just the day before so the suggestion from her goes right to smut-center of his brain. Louis bent over that bar for him wearing only a tiny apron. Harry fucks Louis hard and gets Louis close to coming. He spins Louis around, picks him up easily and places him on the bar legs spread. He impales Louis again and begins fucking without mercy, face to face, Louis holding on to him to keep from slipping on the slick bar top. As soon as Harry stops buried deep in Louis with his orgasm filling Louis with his seed, Louis comes loudly. Louis bites his fingernails into Harry's bare back. His teeth mark Harry's neck. Harry calms slowly after and he kisses Louis... 

"Can you see that? Hell yeah." Eleanor says smirking. 

Harry is aware that after the flash of a wakeful fantasy he is sweating. And when Eleanor sits back in her chair and studies him for a minute more before throwing her head back and laughing heartily at him he knows he's face showed it all to her too. He desired Louis. Loved him. 

Naughty, suggestive girl that she is, Eleanor says, "Harry you're hard."

***

Hours of rambling conversations later Harry really likes this Eleanor. She's smart, fun and clearly not a homophobe. She also is a big supporter of Louis. One minute they are talking about fashion, and Harry's love of florals, Louis they both agree is sporty, and she is more a classic and minimalistic trend. The next minute she takes Harry in conversation to the ledge about Louis; she is makes Harry flush with an image of Louis close to his own experience, then she flips into a story that has Harry suspicious that maybe he didn't know Louis at all.

"Louis was so good for tips. Great. You know what I mean? If Louis was working we had the male clientele in the palm of his hand. Or at least the men who came in to here w a n t e d to be the his palm of his little hand. Or his mouth...his that amazing ass of his. Literally, the male customers hanging around would reorder over the course of a couple hours when Louis was working. Just to see his bum. Or get a smile when they tipped. His tight white jeans were particularly great for bringing them in. And then with women it was a different thing. With them it was funny, two polar opposite groups. There was one group, I'd classify as girls my age, who found Louis, um too, let's say too pretty. Like Louis was competition for the male attention they wanted. But the group women who were mothers, well let's just say anyone with children came back routinely because Louis, because how good he is with kids. Great, actually. The parent demographic loved him." 

A little later Harry is about ready to leave he feels like he still doesn't know answers. He's frustrated. Exasperated. He thanks her for her time. She thanks him in kind, "...you see I'm hoping one of his friends will find out what happened. You're looking, his friend Stan has been in here a couple times. I'm sure someone is going to figure out what happened. I want to believe he's okay. If I was to guess, my hunch is that Stan is right that Louis was upset over the returned love letters and that is who he is with, his secret lover. The one we didn't know about." 

"What?" 

*** 

A few hours later Harry is walking to his father's office. Eleanor confirmed that Louis was supposed to be back to work and simply fell off the grid. She said many of the regulars asked about him for weeks after. She knew nothing about his disappearance, who he might have gone overseas with, because he seemed to be waiting for a lover to join him. Harry thought that was him, but then something about returned love letters made him uncertain. Harry never wrote Louis; he couldn't. Louis never wrote him. All his mail was piled up at home in baskets and not one was a note from Louis. Not even a discrete postcard. 

But Eleanor said Stan had mentioned "returned love letters". 

Eleanor goes on to share with Harry what she told Stan that Louis never acted like a in-town lover was coming around his work. Louis was always getting hit on by men, Eleanor told Harry as she also told Stan. But if he was secretly in love with someone locally it didn't add up. 

"Louis seemed just not available. He consistently turned down offers, so nicely, but firm. He would say he was flattered but that he had someone. If they pressed, because he wasn't seen out with a lover around the town he say this person and he weren't on the same continent yet." And then he'd flatter them something nice and send them away. 

"Harry, I saw Louis throw a lot of phone numbers into the bin the minute backs were turned. I don't think he was kidding about being in love with someone." 

Harry couldn't accept Louis was with anyone other than him. He tells Eleanor he was on a different continent until December, which is consistent with when Eleanor knew Louis was otherwise committed. She couldn't come up with a single description of this mystery lover that Louis shared. Not a one. Louis gave away no secrets. 

In the minutes before Harry left both he and Eleanor stayed silent in their thoughts as they sat together. Harry had in his mind that Louis didn't say anything about this lover. Louis who was open and expressive about things he loved about Harry when they were together. But then it entered Harry's mind. A tiny doubt. Louis never was honest about his reason for being at Bar 3. He hid it. 

"Eleanor, do you, I mean when you, what do you see in that dirty little gay-loving kink mind when you think of Louis and me?" 

" I see heart break Harry. I see heart break that you would ever be apart." 

*** 

Not looking where he was going as he rushed to his father's office Harry collides into someone. They both apologize simultaneously, saying "excuse me" reflexively. In a split second after, they recognize a familiar voice. They look each other in the eye, maybe too quickly, because they each heard the "excuse me" of the other but think it can't be, at least not for Harry. 

Standing there dressed in a suit and looking nothing like the punk Harry knows from Bar 3 is Michael, one of the Australians. 

Harry is so much taller than Michael and in his shock to see the Aussie he makes a step back to get a better look. Michael is surprised too but his expression fades very quickly to a mix of smile and smirk. It's a far more easy transition than Harry's confused look.

"Harry, funny I didn't know you were here." Michael says like this could be expected, just not certain.

"Michael." Harry's says with a nod. 

Michael said that like it was natural, this encounter. It dawns on Harry that the words "didn't know you were here" doesn't come close to what should represent for this otherworldly coincidence. Afterall, Harry lives in England. Michael is from another place. 

"Here? Here like in my country kind of here Michael, like, here-here?"

"Here-here, I guess. If you put it that way. I mean I know your British, but didn't think I'd see you h e r e. We weren't exactly friends. Funny surprise." Michael says this and he has a cockiness about him. An energy. A confidence. 

The two former program attendees feel the people moving around them at the entrance. They move into the upscale building that houses Harry's fathers work. Around them a few people continue passing. Like Michael, they are all wearing professional attire, very nice shoes, looking serious and very important. This is not a setting Harry would ever expect to see anyone from Bar 3. Least of all Michael.

"Something like that. Except this is my father's workplace Michael. So I could be here, and you're right we were never friends. No exactly about it." 

Harry doesn't know why there's no hint of desire to be friendly with Michael, but well maybe he does, but then again, no. No desire at all to be even slightly nice is in this juxtaposition of circumstance. Why could Michael, of all people, be in this part of the world? Wearing a suit. Looking like he's on break from working in one of the offices, like Harry's father's which is on the top floor of this building of executive suites. 

"I'm guessing you didn't know then?"

Michael's cocky look is intensifying. His hair most uncharacteristically normally styled for a change. Michael's clothes professional, but the wanker punk Harry knows from experience is still the pervailing personality that radiates from him. 

"Know what?"

"That I have doing an internship at your father's company. I've been living here in London and working in this office for about a month now. He didn't tell you?"

Harry wants to punch Michael. 

He's not sure why. 

No, wait he's knows exactly why. 

And it has nothing to do with Michael interning at his father's company. 

The intern program of Des' company has had many, many young people training in entry positions. It is not Harry's business, or concern or even a matter of giving any amount of fucks. Des is such an arse someotmes, mostly, that is why Harry has never bothered to care who Des has working with him before. Well, accept in the past when Harry was looking for fresh targets to seduce, use, discard like he'd done many times before, tha cause of being sent to Bar 3. But that was different. Besides it wasn't an intern Harry got caught pounding into the table of the board room. It was a new, young junior business partner of the company that Harry was caught fucking. 

But Michael? Of all the people, Michael...here?

Harry finds himself listening to a long story of how Michael got home to Oz, made up with family for his infractions and began the process like others, Liam, Zayn, Niall, for example, of planning his professional course. In his case he applied to a business finance program in the UK. His counselor from Bar 3 had also given him a list of worldwide opportunities for internships among companies that will work with program graduates. Most of these companies shared a common thread. They were usually aware of the graduates "histories" because they had some connection to the program of their own. Des Styles had a son who went to Bar 3. Families with successful graduates of the program were always asked to donate to the program. Or to take interns in their businesses. People like Liam got their scholarships paid that way. Graduates found welcoming first-chance internships and jobs after the program that way. Michael had applied for positions with companies doing high finance. Des accepted him.

"...I had lots of applications here in London and funny that, your dad offered me an internship. I mean I'm on probation for several more months yet so far it's going really great. Your dad seems so nice. He doesn't care about me being at the same camp as you, although initially he did ask me about it. Not as a requirement to come here to work, but after, when we met face to face."

Harry is trying to swallow the definition of his father as "so nice". He lets it go though. He has a question in his mind that takes precedence. "He asked you about it? What do you mean? What did he ask?"

"He wanted to know if I got a lot out of the experience in the program. He said you don't talk much about it so he was curious of what I thought. It hold him some stories about the ranch, you know, stuff. He seemed genuinely interested. He asked me how well we knew each other, if we got along. I told him I knew you, but I wouldn't say we were friends, more like, competition."

Harry scoffs. 

He looks at Michael, pallor skin and scruffy hair. By Harry's measure Michael is ordinary in every way. Harry never gave much consideration to Michael. Of the lads who were Australians, Harry considered him the least interesting. Just a punk, like the piercings and the every p-changing hair color were Michael's blatant attempts to portray himself as acceptional, but he wasn't. Still, to Harry, despite any effort of Michael's to be a standout, he was just a punk.

Harry closes his eyes and he speaks with a tone of disdain like one uses when they are wealthy, beautiful and superior in every way. "Michael, we weren't friends, definitely, but we also weren't in some competition. You do realize you have nothing I could ever want, right?"

He opened his eyes and looks down on Michael. It wasn't Harry's way to act like that. The attitude was his father, elitist snobbery, not Harry. His words had been said with so much loathing and disregard it made Harry question himself for the nature of it. So why was Michael smiling at him? 

Why was this punk looking so smug in the face of an insult? 

"Yeah. I guess you're right, Harry. There was no competition. I had him. He wanted me. When he left the ranch it was me he gave his heart to, wrote it to me in a note. I mean he didn't have munch time when you all got back from your cow drive thing. But I guess being stuck with you, settling fo you over the entire weekend he really needed me to know where we stood. How he felt about me, Harry, as compared to you. He had little time but he wrote out for me his feelings. Made sure I would know how to find him when I left."

What Michael is saying is sinking into Harry's brain, "the night he left the ranch". It's making Harry's entire mind sear and a burning crack sensation is forming in Harry's frontal lobe.

Michael continues, "Competition Harry? So are you saying he left you a note too? I'll tell you what. Why don't you get yours and I get mine, we meet tomorrow and compare his words? I'm willing to bet Louis was more into my dick than he was yours. Probably hard to tell though, he was such a needy slut. Sometimes he accepted scraps. When I was accepted to come here, I knew I had to dump his whoring arse, sweet a fuck as it was ."


	53. Enchanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael is meeting Harry to show him Louis' note. In this chapter Louis' reason for giving the note to Michael and why Michael kept the note from Harry is revealed. This segment includes is a backstory of Michael; Michael's perspective on the days when Louis was at the ranch. Reasoning behind why Louis kept secrets from his lover about why he kept disappearing off with the Australians are revealed. Also ex plane is why it was that Louis had no choice but to trust Michael with a precious note.

The last thing in the world Michael wants is to face is an angry Harry at a pub. 

When Michael taunted Harry the day before at the Styles' London office about an alleged note from Louis he never thought that Harry would take the bait. It was a mistake. Michael realized this too late. In his impulsiveness to brag he forgot how Harry could be. After making a challenge Michael saw an anger burning deep within Harry and it frightened him. It was too late though. Harry spoke in a deep, growling voice saying he wanted to take Michael's offer "to compare notes". And he said he wanted Michael to show this document to him for "hand-writing analysis". 

As Michael walks a busy street to the pub that he and Harry agreed upon he realizes it's the lie he told Harry that brought him to this. He told Harry he would have a note from Louis. That was true, yes, but what Michael didn't say was that the note was never intended for him. It was given to Michael, a liar, with trust that Michael would pass it on to Harry. Michael never did. 

*** 

Michael had always been a chronic liar. This behavior is what sent him to Bar 3. He had escalated his lies into such destructive place that he had gone beyond return. At times he couldn't tell the truth himself anymore, yet alone ask someone else to trust him. Indeed, no one could trust Michael. He arrived to the ranch in the western US known for mending the troubles in young men like him and began the arduous task of rebuilding his character. 

Like most who enrolled in the program, Michael was on better path after many months due to the work he did with the compassionate and firm help of counselor's and mentors. Thanks to them, and even his new friends, Michael's behaviors had changed. Michael learned to be truthful, to deal with his underlying issues that formerly made him subvert and lie. 

But after months of improvements in his behaviors, Michael had no preparation for the effect on him that the latest Brit to arrive to Bar 3 would have. This new boy simply threw Michael head over heels. 

There was one word to describe Michael's reaction when he saw Louis. 

Enchanted. 

Louis arrived late summer. The very first day after he came to the ranch the usual thing unfolded. It was a tradition. Gangs of lads would try to test out the fortitude of any new kid arriving to the program. Michael's group saw the small, delicate, Doncaster lad as an easy target. They beat other gangs to setting up the first prank, having Louis feeding a dangerous horse. It fell through unsuccessfully. They didn't know why. At least the Australians had established that Louis was theirs to play with. After Louis somehow miraculously avoided death by the stallion th Australians simply set out to plan more pranks. 

One after another all their attempts to prank Louis failed in vain. By the time the Festival of the Horse rolled around they were at wits end. It was an impulsive an idea when they decided to tie Louis in a barn to make him miss his work assignments. They hoped they would cause Louis to be punished by the ranch staff, and finally, effectively diminish him. But even that failed. Louis ended up freed from the cruel predicament and at the relay race. He even made it victory to the Team UK despite pre-race torment they put him through. 

More significantly to Michael on that day was the moment that he realized, for himself personally nothing could diminish Louis in his eyes. Louis was not shaken in the slightest by how they left him. Instead he helped his team win in the relay. Louis was feisty and resilient. This was too intoxicating to Michael. 

Later on the day of the festival, with Louis freed, Michael, Calum, Ashton and Luke, were certain that Louis would reveal them as having bullied him. The straight boys in the group particularly feared looking like they had a thing about Louis. They all went through hours which became days of waiting for repercussions, expecting to be put into some reprimand plan. 

The surprise was that nothing came to bear on them. Everything seemed normal. Eventually it occured to them, Louis never did tell on them for what they did to him. After returning from some near fatal riding accident with Harry triggered by a tantrum Niall had, Louis floated about the ranch doing his usual things and appearing to be unfettered by the pressure they put to bear on him. If anything it seemed to be that Louis was enjoying life and living in some bubble like all was well, threat free, in his little world. That Louis never yielded when they had him tied, he never broke down crying to his counselor when should have told someone about the abuse. It was clear that Louis didn't scare. Small, delicate, pretty Louis. 

That's when Michael began cracking inside from trying to hold on to the one biggest lies of all. It was the one thing he hadn't begun to reveal in his counseling, nor had he shared with his close friends, Calum, Ashton and Luke. How could he? 

Michael was gay. When he saw Louis on the first day, tight jeans, rolled up hems baring tan ankles, that sparkle of happiness radiating from his blue eyes, his features like effusions of idealized pixie-ness in everything down from those delicate features to his tiny hands. 

Well that is when it was all over for Michael. Michael had to have Louis.

Lust churned Michael's emotion; lust conflicted with his long-held fear of anyone knowing he was gay. 

As a cover, Michale led his buddies from Australia into tying Louis in the barn. Michael tried to act like he loathed Louis for being gay. He took the lead on taunting Louis only because he needed to. Finally, a chance to touch Louis, the one who had been beyond his reach. Excited by his obsession Michael pushed the boundary beyond teasing to the point of torture. He drew his friends into going along with this overreach. If he could have taken Louis then, even with his mates standing there watching, sportingly cheering him on, it would have been wonderful fulfillment. 

Unfortunately Michael only got to grope silky flesh and nibble on Louis' golden skin. He wanted more, desperately. Every time Louis made the little noises, protest, resistance...it just made Michael more aroused. Arousal so long restrained bore this need for Louis into his very soul, penetrating deep. 

Afterwards Michael realized that whatever harm he may have inflicted on Louis with the cruelty, his actions turned back onto himself in spades. He fantasized about Louis constantly from thereafter. He whacked off to his dreams of Louis every day. After the incident in the barn, Michael knew how good Louis smelled. How silky his skin is to touch. How full his bum feels in one's hand. 

And it was about that time it also became clear that Louis was fucking Harry Styles, sexual predator Styles, it broke Michael's heart. Why Harry? After all everyone knew Harry. Harry only used others like they were meaningless toys. Harry would hurt Louis. He couldn't love him like Michael did. Harry's glitch was that. He had no heart. Michael was a liar and a cheat. But he had capacity to love...so why Harry? 

Soon enough though, Michael got an opportunity to see Louis regularly in counseling. It had become apparent to the mentors and counselors that there was a battle of wills with pranks; the Aussies were trying to get Louis, Louis had been successfully getting to the Aussies. 

The solution? The five boys had to work it out together. In a way this kind of endeared Louis to the other three Australians. This conflict resolution was showing them a different side of Louis. In time they came to respect how Louis was. Small, delicate, pretty and gay were not the only words to describe Louis. He was also strong, fierce, and fearless about fighting his own battles. He was confident and at no time engaged his friends to help him fight the advances of four Austalians. It was like Louis knew that negative activity could jeopardize the other UK lad's rotation in the program so he avoided putting them in jeopardy by getting them to help protect him. In doing so he protected them. He kept Harry, who like Liam was known to be not one to trifle with, free from entanglement in his conflict. 

The course of this group counseling had a profound effect. It's irony couldn't be measured given the circumstance of Louis unexpected and sudden release from the program which happened late one day..

*** 

Michael was one of many who saw the SUV pull up to the ranch center court mid day on a Sunday near the end of summer. A woman about forty and a serious-looking-man in a suit carrying a serious-looking-briefcase got out of the vehicle. They met with a group of program staff. 

Rumors began spinning immediately. The only sign of what this was about was that the principle person in the meeting appeared to be Louis' counselor, Tony. 

Later that day the wranglers began behaving antsy like they were anticipating the return of the five UK boys who were out with the rancher neighboring Bar 3 for a weekend cattle drive. This team of boys appeared to be running very late in returning. More time passed and the wranglers showed definite impatience. The man in the suit settled into waiting in the main lodge with his laptop and a stern expression of "do not disturb" as he worked. The woman began passing time on her phone. The only time she was not chatting or texting on her phone was when she had to charge it. Whenever her phone was being charged she anxiously paced the expansive front deck of the main lodge. It was then that many of the boys who were congregated enjoying a Sunday off were able to get a closer look at this guest.

She was British, petite, in her forties, with large expressive eyes. Her demeanor showed she was gutted with worry. Most the lads who saw her got a feeling from her that she was a mom. She smiled sweetly whenever she met the eyes of any of the boys who were out on the veranda. Behind her smile though, was her worry. She didn't speak to anyone, just paced and fretted. By dusk, with the five Brits not yet back this woman was literally wringing her hands. The serious man was no longer working on his computer but pacing with her. Trying to comfort her, looking at his 50k Rolex watch every five minutes. Louis' counselor, Tony, was by her side too. Tony was also clock-watching, nervously. 

When the five UK boys finally came riding up p, Louis' counselor ran out to meet them. A driver who spent his day at the SUV started the vehicle and pulled up to the front of the lodge. The serious man took the worried woman to the vehicle as she stained to get a look at the riders. Micheal watched and saw how Louis was taken as soon as his boots hit the ground by Tony. A wrangler took Louis' horse. The other four lads were all ushered to get something to eat, but Louis was quickly pulled away by Tony. Together Louis and Tony went to the lodge which housed Louis' room. Tony had an arm around Louis as if to lead Louis and was talking to him entire way. 

Michael followed behind Louis and Tony, skulking, ducking to hide behinds walls watching as Louis was taken to his room by the counselor. 

When Louis came out from his room in a few minutes he carried a duffle, the same bag he arrived to Bar 3 with, and his backpack. 

As Louis exited the lodge which housed many of dormitory rooms, his counselor ran to Louis to hurry Louis to the SUV. 

From the shadows where Michael spied on them he could see that Tony was genuine and tender with Louis. After a few minutes of conversing, counselor and youth exchanging what had the feel of farewells they parted. Tony putting Louis in the SUV. Louis held off at the door of the vehicle, he had something left to say perhaps because he was animatedly delaying departing despite Tony's efforts. Michael couldn't be sure but he saw what appeared to be Louis offering a paper note to his counselor but Tony shook his head "no" and seemed to refrain from accepting the folded paper. Louis' posture appeared diminished. Then they turned away once more, maybe the last word between them was one more goodbye, and Louis slid onto the back seat of the SUV. 

Michael saw the lights of the vehicle fully come on like it was prepard to leave. Tony had stepped inside the lodge. Compelled by his need, Michael ran to the SUV. He hit the window hard and the vehicle which had begun to roll came to an immediate stop. The blackened window came down smoothly and quickly. 

"Michael?" 

"Louis..." 

Michael looked at Louis, he looked past Louis where the woman who had been waiting for hours and hours sat. Seeing them side by side together in the back seat it was clear. She had to be Louis' mother. 

"...you're leaving?" 

"Seems so. Guess it has worked out that way." 

"What? I don't understand, how can you leave?" Michael asked the question his voice strained. It was one question with two meanings. One literal, one conceptual. 

Louis' mum leaned over to address Michael, her reply was an answer to a straight interpretation, the obvious assumed meaning of Michael's question, "Louis was never supposed to be sent here. It was a mistake. He was, set up." 

That wasn't what Michael meant though. What he meant, was how could Louis be leaving! Michael's world was fracturing. 

It was too soon. Michael had just become friends with this boy he was obsessed with. Maybe not real friends. But friends at counseling, and this was step one in a relationship. 

To have this opportunity to become closer to Louis, Michael had given of himself, freely and honestly. He'd been truthful. Michael, the chronic liar, had become teller-of-truths. 

For Michael it was that Louis couldn't leave. Not now. It was all for Louis that Michael was being this better person. 

Michael's emotions left his mind spinning unable to know what else to say when Louis reached out through the window and shoved something into Michael's hand. The softness of Louis' touch made Michael's breath pause. Louis gripped Michael's hand as if to cement his reception of the folded paper and Louis spoke to Michael with a tone Michael had dreamed of since, well since, the day Louis was tied and taunted in the barn. The sound of it was blissful to Micheal even though the words were not to his benefit. 

"Michael, do me a favor. Please? Wouldn't ask this, but please, I need you to give this to Harry. We got back and I had minutes to get my things. I had no time. No time for goodbyes. Would you please, please, tell my mates I wasn't allowed to say goodbye to them. And give this note to Harry please? I don't want to leave like this. It's breaking my word. You understand, yeah? You especially. Please, give this to Harry." When Louis finished his plea he squeezed Michael's hand again. The passed note was in Michael's trust. Louis was giving Michael his complete trust. 

*** 

So how was it that Michael was walking into a pub to meet Harry, and Harry's fellow Bar 3 graduates, carrying Louis' note so many months after Louis trustingly gave it to him? 

How had Michael managed to keep it to himself despite the last words he said to Louis as a driver said they needed to move on and began to pull away, "I promise Louis, I'll give it to Harry." How? 

Maybe the mistake was reading it. 

Maybe the mistake was reading it having had gotten to know Louis. Louis was not only pretty and desirable in Michael's eye. He was also a lively, sassy, fun and amazingly sweet person. 

Maybe it was even before that when Michael made the mistake of giving himself a near taste of Louis, unsolicited yes, but still it was a taste. The way Louis felt in his hands; curves and delicate. Soft and firm. Lithe muscles contrasting that softness. Skin like silk. 

Maybe it was even further back than that. It could have even started from day one. The day Louis stepped out of a car at Bar 3. Dainty ankles exposed. Wearing vans with no socks. His complexion sunny and warm like he was born of the sun. His features cute. His arse to die for. To top it all off he was gay and at ease about it even in a place as rough as the ranch full of troubled, violent young men. Michael was struck with an enchantment. 

*** 

Michael is considering how he is "enchanted" with Louis. He thinks that's the correct word for his feelings because he doesn't want to admit, it's an "obsession" like that would acknowledge that his feelings are wrong. He needs a respectful label because this lie he's living is the exact thing that ruined his life and sent him to a program. He doesn't want to go back. He doesn't want to end up in jail. He enters the pub and finds the "jury" he'll be facing at the back of the pub. 

Coming with Harry would be the other lads from the UK who were Harry's friends at Bar 3. Micheal knew this. Coming before the four of them Micahel would attempt to pull off his biggest lie. 

Michael walks over to them taking a deep breath to say to himself he can do this. His eyes stay with Niall from the onset because, maybe of all them, Niall seems the most, most, approachable. 

Harry, as Michael expected, is brooding with an edge of malice. 

Liam is like the Liam who first came to Bar 3, not the one who left the program a changed person. That is to is to say that Liam has a manner about him that suggests he'd be happy to hurt anyone who crosses him. Michael knows that side of Liam. The Liam who could pulverize challengers with his fists. That behavior is what sent Liam to the program. Liam had left his violent side behind him when he finished the program but as Michael joins them he could feel the potential for Liam deciding to deal out a beating. The hint of it is just under the surface of Liam's restrained cordial greeting. 

Zayn. Zayn smokes and doesn't look at Michael. It seems, too, that for this meeting, Zayn has returned to his early incarnation before his maturation at Bar 3. It is like Zayn is a lord, above everyone. Or at the very least Zayn is above Michael most certainly. Michael never learned what Zayn did before the program to be sent there. He only know that at this moment Zayn is giving off his elitist coolness to an extent that Michael is beneath receiving even a token greeting from Zayn. Zayn isn't going to look at Lowly-Michael. He looks only at his mates. And smokes. 

But Michael swallows his fear and he convinces himself. He has a note. A signed note. It was so convenient that in the haste to leave Louis didn't start his rapidly scratched out note without adding an opening salutation. It bore no name of who it was written to. Was that so the note would be untraceable to Harry if discovered? Was it just the lack of time? Was it oversight? The note began with an urgent expression. It ended with Louis' unmistakable signature. There was no question that Louis wrote it. 

Michael tries to start with small talk and friendly banter. He hopes this makes this easier. It is quick to see the dynamics. Harry is a mix of anger and darkness. Zayn is doing his the Persian Lord thing. He still isnt saying a word, only smoking. 

Niall and Liam seem the most talky, but neither is showing any degree of friendship, but then, why would they?

"We're not here for a reunion, Michael. Show me your note." Harry barks, tired of Michael's delay. 

Michael's hand reaches into his pocket. He fingers the note. So long has he carried it, cherished it, as he pretended it was written for him, that the paper is worn and soft.

Michael pulls it out. As he produces it he says, "Right mate, I'll show you mine and you show me yours." His voice sounds assured and confident. A life practiced lying makes him this skilled.

The paper Michael reveals is contoured from being kept in his jeans. He unfolds it carefully knowing that he has to be protective because of its wearing from his constant reading of it. Keeping his false pretense of disregard in the forefront of his behavior he tosses the folded note to Harry. It hopes this gives the illusion that this is not a document of "speciality"; it is nothing more that rubbish, not in anyway unique.

Producing nothing in exchange to give to Michael, Harry takes it. 

Harry's mates lean in. Everyone could see the words immediately. They are written in Louis' sloppy style. 

The note begins as Michael has memorized and the impact on the other four he watches to see as it is revealed on their four faces. 

"I have only minutes to pack my things to leave here and my love which is.... How can I leave you like this? It's already too long since your lips have met mine..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Louis was protecting his mates from having to stay longer in the program by not engaging them to help him fight his battles. So if Harry thinks there was something going on sexually between Louis and the Aussies that is coming from within him, his fears. He still hasn't put that together what he learned about why was Louis sent there. So he is still vulnerable to suggestions. Michael knows enough to be damaging if Harry wants to let suggestions rule over his heart. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the read. Remaining note-content forthcoming. (Sorry I've been working a lot.)


	54. Fringe of the demon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I have only minutes to pack my things to leave here and my love which is.... How can I leave you like this? It's already too long since your lips have met mine..."
> 
> Louis' note continues on with Harry and the others reading it. Ensuing events unfold. This delivers the story back to where the story left off in San Juan Del Sur.

"...our bodies entangled. Your lips on mine. The way your touch imprints you on my skin. All of this I leave behind and I have no time to give your more than this note. This, and my promise. I will write you every day as I leave here. Every day waiting for you. It will be pages of the things we did and all I want to do with you - when you get home there might be a hundred letters. None of them will really express how waiting for you is going to be like an eternity. Hoping you'll call me as soon as you can. I won't bear a minute knowing you are released without hearing your voice. I love you."

Beneath these words is a signature. "Louis T". 

It is as Harry has seen before. Harry still keeps the note from the night Louis made a Spider-Man sneak into Harry's room at the ranch, wall-crawling over a sleeping mentor to give a written message to him. That note from Louis was about them secretly meeting up thanks to Kyla, and that note was signed exactly as this one brought to th pub by Michael was. The name "Louis", followed by a smiley that was a pair of straight lines as eyes simply placed over an upturned smile line. Below them was a "T" that looked like something the spear that Poseidon would carry. 

There is no question for Harry, or the others, that this is Louis' handwriting. 

The only question is what is meant by what is written, or rather, what does it mean that Louis gave this note to Michael? 

Louis' own hand pledges that he was going to write a letter "every day". Louis went on to say might be "a hundred letters" waiting. So many letters, one for every day, not something to overlook. Also in Louis' writing it stays that Louis "won't bear a minute "knowing you are released without hearing your voice." 

These words Harry tries to reconcile with what he knows of his and Louis' communicae since he returned to England. He knew Louis had not mailed him a single letter. Not a one. Harry had pounds of mail waiting for him. A huge basket full of letters, cards, magazines. There was nothing from Louis. No suggestion of how to reach out to Louis. Where to find him or call. Within days of Harry being home he had also recieved mail from Zayn, Liam and Niall. They were newly home and yet immediately sent him a letter as soon as they got settled at home. Tthey and Harry, alike were all beginning to set up their new lives, but they made sure Harry new how to call them. 

Harry rereads the Louis' note. He doesn't see the way Michael is biting his lower lip nervously. Harry just reads. He struggles to understand. Then Harry remembers that in talking with Louis' counselor soon after Louis left Bar 3, that Tony had said he couldn't give Harry any private information about Louis. What Tony did say, Harry recalled quite well because it was so very cryptic and curious. 

"I've been working with another counselor who says that his boys are...somewhat entangled, for lack of a better word shall we say, with Louis. I know the way Louis was with you from hints Louis made in our sessions. So, well, let's just say that I get the idea that you and Louis share an odd view of sexual liberties."

As Harry is scanning Louis' words in the note again he thinks of Tony having said that about Louis after Louis left. Making it a point that both Harry and Louis are deemed "sexually liberal" in Tony's view the suggestion has a lot of variants of meaning. One meaning could well be that Louis, from Tony's guess, could have been getting around. "Entangled", was the word the counselor used. Louis could be getting "entangled" with other boys. 

Harry scans the note and reflects on Louis. Louis didn't ever reveal to Harry a reason for the bruising on his wrists. But there were several times that Louis disappeared on the grounds, often last seen walking with the Australians like he had someplace to go. Kyla told Harry it was something between Louis and the Australinas not of Louis' choosing, she suggested it was group counseling, but how would she really know for certain? Kyla didn't work with the boys. She was in charge of the riding program for local girls. Maybe Kyla was guessing. And, Harry wondered, if Kyla was actually right about Louis than why did Michael get a love letter and not him? 

Harry angrily crumbles the letter up. It was so worn that it makes no sound as he does that. He throws it across the table hitting Michael between the eyes. Michael doesn't flinch. He lets it tumble, rolling down his chest and falling onto to the floor. Michael isn't behaving like he is inclined to reclaim it. In fact, Harry hears the sound of Michael's boot pressing on the note and sliding it over the floor much like he is grinding something valueless into smitherings. 

After this there is a quiet pause. A standoff. Micheal is playing this high stakes. He's got a great future in cards if he can learn to count numbers and recall them like a good gambler because when it comes to the lie, his "tells" are few. He holds still. He knows he'll appear to Harry and the others as confident, portraying the image of not giving a shit about the note. Later, when this meeting is done he'll be the last to leave. He'll wait until they all walk out before he ducks down to retrieve the note, his coveted prize. He will pick it off the floor, tuck it into his jacket pocket, take it home and try to remove the damage his boot is doing to it. Michael simply can't let go of the idea that this note should have been for him not for predatory Styles. 

Harry has a world of thoughts too in this pause. He is running more facts through his mind. Like Michael, Harry is a reader of "tells". The difference between him and Michael is that Harry is also a counter. He can run numbers and calculate odds, maths was easy for him. Calculating probabilities is a thing he does in his head for fun. It is also the one and only way that Harry and Des are alike. Both the Styles men can run the numbers. So Harry considers a few bits of recent insights on Louis. Jay and Eleanor... 

Jay said of her son that he was moving on. "Sex was just sex." Eleanor said love letters were returned. Louis left after that. Michael holds a promissory note about letters to be written every day. 

A slight smile forms on Michael's lips. Michael's trying to not appear to gloat so as to make this rub more pointed. He's certain he has Harry ensnared in his lie. With his hair spiked every which way and sprayed with some cheap, washable hair coloring, he bore the style of look everyone at Bar 3 knew as Michael's signature. Michael liked conjuring references to the idea he was the reincarnation of Sid Vicious. Michael is even dressed like the famed Sex Pistol, black leather and studded accessories. 

"I know, right? Pathetic the way he has to whore around and beg for it? Hey, now show me yours, Harry. I mean did you get letters at home like me? Every day. Louis, he wants my cock so bad, you know." 

Michael says the words smoothly without a flinch. He isn't looking directly at Harry as he tosses out his carefully crafted lie. He is looking at his beer bottle and pulling the paper label off nonchalantly. When he does look up at the others he makes it a quick glance over all of them without holding anyone's eyes. Niall first. Next Michael glances at Liam for a second. Whoops, Michael skips past Zayn very fast because Zayn is finally looking at him, but Zayn is giving Michael a look of daggers and death. 

Michael retreats back to looking at his bottle, pulling more paper from its label. "I mean! I'm sure he wrote you guys too. Right? Didn't he fuck all of you like he did us? Once I heard one of the Amercians saying they thought Louis was getting it with at least two of you together, so we've a l l had his ass right?" 

Michael feels their glares. They are all hooked. "That is no surprise. He loved it when me and my mates did him in a gang. Me, Luke, Ashton and Calum." Michael pauses again and continues to avoid looking directly at them. Removing more bits of paper he lets it sink in as he weaved an idea that was a complete fiction. 

"We should do this again." Without confirming by looking at them Michael can feel the way the four lads are uncomfortable. Dumbstruck. His distorted story has ensnared them. "We should come out to have some beers again like this, share some Louis-stories. Next time I can bring some pictures. I mean, we had no cameras, no phones at the ranch, right? But, Zayn, you'll appreciate this. You drew Louis. So did Luke. Luke drew up a couple from memory after we all had Louis. This one time, it was of Louis sucking my cock. Calum and Ashton sharing his hole. What a fuck, right? He was so tight." 

"Luke also drew me wrecking Louis. This drawling is my favorite. It is Luke's..." Michael breaks off after a quick glance at Zayn and goes back to his story, "...what do you say Zayn? Most inspired piece of art, is that a master interpretation? What do you artist say? He took the idea from this one time when Louis had been particulalry seductive, so pretty. Maybe it was the way Louis arched his back and whined for us. Something so simple, but Louis, Louis knew that when he did that, it was a sure thing. He sounded and looked so amazing. Who could resist? I remember that he was so slick with sweat. You know, because Luke had him first, it was the thing. A long, hard cum-play between them. That's how Luke liked to do it with Louis. Edge him. Unravel him. Then he liked to sat back and watch what we did after he had Louis. After Luke, I entered Louis next. I began fucking Luke's cum out of Louis' hole. Meanhile Ash went to lick on Louis' pretty balls, pinching Louis' nipples to make him wiggle and squirm. Louis always loved the way Ash would do that. He'd beg Ash for it. But this time Calum had Louis' pretty mouth busy sucking his dick while Ash and I were making him writhe and Louis couldn't even speak. He could only moan. That was a time I knew I'd never want to forget. Luke drew it for me. Luke so completely captures Louis in all his drawings. I have that picture one on a wall in my flat. You should come buy sometime. It's a masterpiece." 

Michael doesn't know where to stop with his lies. Even though this behavior is precisely what sent him to Bar 3. He had no restraint when he got going. He knew the four of them were captivated. "Really, come by mine sometime. I got the drawling right front and center over my sound system. It reminds me how Louis could trick us any time he needed cock. Louis knew that he felt so good, it was hard to not go with it even though he was only a slut, wanting anyone to bend him over, fill him with cock. You know? Behind any barn, any time. He just needed it. I felt bad rejecting him when I got home. But I mean, it occured to me, all those letters, it was so pathetic. Begging for my dick. Wanting me to call him as soon as I could." 

Three faces were staring gape-mouthed as Michael ended his fabrication with, "I mean, you know, right? Have to have a little pride, don't we?" 

Harry's complextion is a hint of green in color and he excuses himself. Zayn jumps up too and quickly follows Harry. 

Michael couldn't know for certain but he sees the way Niall's arm has slid around to take ahold of Liam and something about Niall tightly holding an arm of Liam's in each of his hands gives Michael the distinct feeling that Niall is straining to hold Liam back. It seems that if it were not for Niall, Liam might come over the table and beat him. It wouldn't be the first time Liam's fists took Michael out.

*** 

In the men's room Harry finds a open stall seconds before his stomach hurls all its contents. It not the alcohol. He's had one beer. It's the images. The way the details fit together. Michael was right? Louis was a whore? Harry's mind can't reconcile. 

As the last heave from Harry empties his gut he realizes his has already made his decision. Harry feels disconnected and vacant. There's nothing. He is nothing. Louis made him feel alive again. Now Louis has left Harry empty. 

*** 

Many times following their meeting at the pub with Michael the three friends tried to pull Harry out of where his head went. They all witnessed this destructive story of Louis but they couldn't believe it like Harry did. And even though Harry argued that some facts from Louis' mum, Jay, and his former boss, Eleanor, aligned with Michael's story, the three of them refused to reconcile 'this Louis' that Michael described was 'their Louis'. 

Louis had brought them all together. Before Louis came to Bar 3 they were all adrift. 

And Harry? While Harry couldn't believe them after meeting with Michael, his mates all knew what Louis fell for Harry, it was love. Was Louis sex-crazed? Yes. Unthreatened by casting off sexual norms? Absolutley. But was he really a slut? 

"No." Zayn says. "That is not our Louis!" 

It was another late night. The three lovers, Niall, Liam and Zayn, had been well occupied for a couple hours pleasing each other. 

As was usual, afterwards, basking in their happy trifecta perfection, they found themselves wishing what they had, enjoyed, was a thing that Harry could enjoy too. A safe, bonded sexual relationship among consenting parties. They wanted this for Harry so much and they knew this needed to be with Louis. So often after they recovered in the glow of great sex, they talked about Harry and Louis. It was a ritual for them now ever since Michael. 

In the few times since their meeting with Michael when they saw Harry their concerns intensified as they saw his spiral, his decline. He'd come to London occasionally for a few days at most. Each time he was worse than the time before. They could see despair and heartache. They also saw how Harry was becoming tempted more over time to hurt others, like the Harry they first met at Bar 3 before Louis came and fixed him. They feared for Harry that a fringe of the demon inside, which Harry had put away, would come back out. It was only a matter of time before he would become the monster again. Taking and playing people sexually. Callous and uncaring. 

"No." Zayn says again. "There's just no way. I'm the one who, I mean before Harry and Louis connected, I had the most intimate contact with Louis. What I'm saying is that he wasn't like that. Not as Michael wanted to make us believe. I know that." 

"And I'm not saying that I got the opportunity to see any of the files on anyone, except for Nazir, at the end when I was working doing intern in counseling, but I'll will tell you there is no way Michael is telling us the truth. I don't know Michael's whole story. I did hear Michael's counselor talking about him sometimes though. With other counselor's. When they released him in December, I think they thought he had it under control, but maybe he's that good at deception. Like I said, I only saw write up on Nazir, no one else. I know from what I overheard that Michael was a chronic liar. I think his problem goes deeper than we know. His story proves it to me. The story makes no sense with the idea of Louis fucking all of them. The other three were pretty hardcore hetero. Just comparing them to Nazir, using Nazir as an example of wanting Louis, with Nazir it was clear. He was crazy about Louis. And Nazir is a pretty hot lad. If Louis was whoring around Nazir would have nailed him. Trust me, I worked with Nazir and he made it very clear that he knew Louis was out of his reach...because of Harry." 

Niall and Liam are agreeing quietly with Zayn. Some silence settles over the three. Then Liam speaks. 

"We got to connect the dots. Michael said, Louis sent him letters. Louis' own note says he's writing who-ever, every day. We know Louis got letters sent back to him, Harry was told that by this Eleanor person. If the returned letters went back to Louis, who has them now? Louis left for a weekend and never came back to his job or his life. Who has the things Louis left at his flat?" 

*** 

Maybe it was the uniform. But when Liam showed up at what had been Louis' London address the complex manager was happy to hear what a fireman had to say. The man in his fifties, directed his visiting daughter to take Liam and the other two lads to the tenant storage area in the basement of the building. There were the unclaimed belongings abandoned by Louis'. 

The pretty daughter of the manager, Sophia, leaped at the opportunity to escort Liam. Beautiful, brunette, with big brown eyes, Sophia couldn't stop looking at Liam. 

Sophia explained why her father didn't mind letting friends of Mr Tomlinson's collect his stuff. "Twice his mum tried to get here and collect them." Sophia shared with Liam as she found innocent ways to keep touching his bicep as she lead the three to storage. "My father said each time she books a day to come to London her plans go astray. Some youngster is sick. My father would appreciate anyone taking the things. The storage is for paying tenants." 

Liam, Zayn and Niall go to the pile of things that Sophia points to. It literally is a pile. There's a matress, no bed frame. Some lamps. A small table. Some soft chairs like a college kid would have. Several boxes. Speakers. A guitar. Nine footballs. A garbage bag of clothes. Boxes of food and sundries. It's hardly a life. The cllection of items suggests Louis arrangements were temporary and his life meager. 

One of the few boxes catches their attention. Attempting to not seem too suspect they carry all the the thinks up, load them into their small rented moving van without acting unusual. Sophia is flirting heavily with Liam by the time things are loaded. Zayn and Niall exchange a wink when they see her slip her number into his phone. Again she does this with a finish of squeezing his arm. 

Once they are in the van and waving her goodbye, Niall parts the lid of the box which is the one thing he put in the cab and held in his lap. 

It's an ordinary box. It bears no remarkable marks. It has a central postal label that indicates it has been signed for at the post office. 

Inside the box they find letters. It seems like there are easily a hundred of them. Every letter is addressed to Harry Styles, Cheshire, in Louis' handwriting. Every letter had Harry's address crossed out. Written across each envelope with a mark pointing to Louis' PO box address in bold marker are the words "RETURN TO SENDER".


	55. Phantom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter opens with Liam, Niall, and Zayn going to see what clues they can find at Louis' former flat. Then the story picks up back in Latin America with hurt Harry and surfer Louis in San Juan del Sur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -There are several chapters that were leading up to Harry's condition waking in a suite after he's nearly drowned in a surfing accident while with Greg. If anyone needs to skim those for continuity of reading to refresh those are 19-23 and I'm sorry this is stupidly long.
> 
> The next update can have some of the horrible people getting what they deserve or it can be just happy-Larry-ending and no details of consequences. This has been so long but as it ends if anyone has any requests about content they want to see flushed out please speak up. 
> 
> Love to you all for reading whet I was sure was. 50k Max! Fic.
> 
> And for enduring the Typos.
> 
> * * *

"Why the hell is Harry not answering?" Zayn asks in exasperation. His question is stated with such frustration as if, miraculously, either Niall or Liam will clairvoyantly know. 

How could any of them know Harry went on an extensive family trip and he was someplace that his phone didn't work with the local providers? 

All three of them had been able to reach Harry by phone for days which is what prompted them to take the initiative to go to Louis' flat and see for themselves if he had anything there which gave clues about his disappearance. After long assuming Jay had been there, Liam contacted the gentleman in charge of Louis' lease and learnt that no one had collected Louis' things. 

Apparently several times Jay had hoped to come to London. She was unable to. Always at the last minute. Months went by. The landlord admitted he put Louis' belongings into storage of the basement of the flat by the time it was two weeks delinquent so he could release the space to lease to a new tenant. More time passed since Jay's last attempts to collect her son's belongings. It seemed like Louis' things, like him, were forgotten. The landlord was grateful to be rid of abandoned stuff. 

*** 

Liam met the landlord at the building. Strategically, Liam was dressed in his formal attire from the ceremony swearing in of Liam and other newly graduating firemen . Liam made a great impression. Distinguished looking in his uniform the landlord passed over to his visiting daughter, Sophia, th task of escorting Liam, Zayn and Niall to the basement where the building had some storage for tenants. 

Sophia, an attractive brunette with deep brown eyes and a sculpted figure was clearly smitten with Liam at first sight. As they made their way to the cache of Louis' things she flirted with Liam. She kept touching his bicep, laughing at anything he said. Licking her lips when their eyes met or blatantly checking Liam's body if his eyes left her's for even a moment. 

Arriving at a small pile of items it hardly seemed that this could be all of one person's belongings. Surely not. Louis had lived in London for months. The story was that starting within a few days, maybe two, after Louis came back to England from the US, he lived in London at this address in a tiny flat until one day he went on a "weekend" trip to Latin America only to disappear. 

Looking at the collection of things the landlord put aside, it was clear why the man didn't sweat about keeping Louis' belongings. 

There was a mattress; small, no box springs, no frame. Three lamps. A collapsable, small table. A soft, free-form chair. A nice, bluetooth compatible speaker. A box of sundries, towels, bath things. A box of linens and bed sheets. A box of kitchen things. A box of food items like dry goods. Nine soccer balls and a David Beckham poster. A garbage bag of clothes. These looked like they were hastily bagged by the landlord. Beside the bag was a pair of boots. The lads recognized the boots. The last time they saw Louis he was wearing them. These were the boots Will gave Louis. A pair that had once belonged to Francie. There was a box of assorted items. Note pads, a couple books, pens, matches, life clutter like receipts, cheap restaurant punch cards, the like of that. 

And there was a box of mail. 

It was pretty clear that all the boxes of "life stuff" were things that someone boxed after Louis stopped paying rent. It just had that look to it. But the box of mail stood out, because after all, it was marked with a sign for receipt to release at collection. The signature was Louis'. 

Ignoring the way Sophia looks positively crestfallen when the three got "rushed" in their manners, they took all the things from the basement. It was a picture of Louis' life, a very meager, not eventful life. Putting the belongings into the van they borrowed, never guessing it would so easily house all of Louis' furnishing of several months of living, and tried to expedite moving on graciously while hiding some fascination with one box. 

Snatching his own phone away once Sophia had, on her unprompted suggestion, entered for him her contact information, Liam apologizes. They have to get going, he tells her. He tosses out the excuse the post graduation ceremony party is starting soon with that the three of them leave in obvious haste, before she can finish what appears to be an ask to "join the party". 

The van pulls away and within seconds, Niall, seated in the middle of the van's cab, opens the box. 

The box is full of letters. Each one is the same as the others. Only the postmaster date of mailing alters. Each one bears the same recipient address. 

All had been sent to Harry Styles, Cheshire. 

All bore a return address signifying they were mailed from Louis Tomlinson. Most were from a London PO Address. Two, the first two Louis could have mailed after returning from Bar 3, were post marked as sent from Doncaster. 

One last consistency of these letters? Each and every one of them had a hand written boldly stated instruction with an arrow drawn to show intent. The instructions written in all caps? "RETURN TO SENDER" 

Niall, Zayn and Liam have evidence in hand that Michael was most likely lying. The "returned letters" that Harry was told Louis talked about were addressed in Louis ' handwriting to Harry. With these letters as evidence it is imperative that they reach Harry immediatley, before he does something stupid.

"You know Zee, it makes perfect sense, when you think about it. The only question is why did Louis give Michael a note, but when you think about that the note, I don't remember it saying 'Dear Michael'. I don't trust his story. It's possible Louis left it for Harry, in Harry's room, or somehting and that twat took it."

Niall is nodding agreement. "I still am not buying the part about Luke drawling pictures. My time around Luke taught me he is a talented person, but more like a musically inclined of an artist than one like Zayn. I never saw him drawling anything. Not that we chilled together or anything. It just doesn't sound like Luke." 

Liam is driving. He tells Zayn to try Harry again. This time his phone says in an auto message that the number called has a mail box that is full. It can no longer accept messages. "No surprise," Zayn says as his disconnects. "We've called him so many times with no success and now his voicemail box is full."

"Where the hell could he be?" Niall asks. In his hands are letters that he is sorting, organizing by date. 

The three drive on in silence. They possess the strongest evidence that their-Louis was true to their belief of who he is verses who Michael portrayed him to be. 

Louis was the one who loved Harry. So much that Louis wrote Harry every day. The last letter in the series bears an ironic date. It's postmarked as sent the day after Harry returned to England from the US.

***

Many months ago at Bar 3 beginning with the first night following Louis' unexpected release from the program there were three things that plagued Harry, or rather things about missing Louis that Harry had the most challenge letting go. It wasn't his obsessive need for sex per se. Sure, Harry's his body ached for Louis', but as Harry strove to push that need away with the pain of an unexplained abandonment Harry learns that he is plagued by other things, subversive little things about Louis that creep into his senses like visiting phantoms. The act of sex he could do without. But the little things? 

Whether Harry is in a wakeful state or sleeping, he finds that he has no control over these hints of Louis. They come to him like suggestions. They can appear or disappear as abruptly as Louis vanished. Surprisingly, it's not all erotic suggestions that haunt Harry despite the highly sexual nature of their short relationship. Two of the three most pervasive things that plague Harry are actually quite innocent, only if twisted are they sexual. 

Louis' scent is one of the most powerful phantoms that haunts Harry. For weeks after Louis's release Harry slept with a jumper of his tucked beside his pillow. It was the one that Louis was wearing on the last two evenings when they camped at the lake. Harry could breathe in the hints of Louis' along with the odor of campfire smoke that this jumper kept in its fibers for days before finally fading beyond recognition. For a few nights, Harry drifted off to sleep smelling "Louis". It was both insufferably painful and comforting all in one. 

Harry's sleep those nights were particularly permeated by the ideas that the smell of Louis impregnated into Harry's mind. Harry drifted into the scent-induced dreams recalling how the jumper was too big on Louis. Even rolled sleeves still fell over Louis' knuckles. The neckline was loose so that fell off Louis' shoulders. The hem line? Considering the hem line took Harry's dreams from adorably innocent to utterly indecent. 

Harry woke from the indecent having a particular need to wank off. In Harry's fantasy Louis was wearing the oversized jumper and nothing else. This left exposed Louis' firm, luscious thighs. A peek at jumper-clad Louis from behind revealed the bottom curve of Louis' bum as Louis moved. Harry even dreamt that Louis paraded around deliberately coy in this make-shift minidress aware of how he affected Harry. 

In these dreams Louis' pretty cock would be sporting a semi. He'd lick his lips suggestively and smirk to provoke Harry into seizing him. Louis' arousal arouses Harry. Harry satiates himself the same way in these fantasies; he always goes to his knees, sucks Louis off with the hem of his own jumper covering his eyes like a blindfold as he swallows Louis' cum. Harry relies on the sense of touch and smell, leaving the visual pleasures aside. In every one of these repeating dreams it culminates with Harry standing, lifting Louis, supporting Louis' weight against a wall as Harry fucks into Louis there just like that. It's the wall and him pinning Louis. The only article of clothing between the two of them is this one jumper. His orgasm brings Louis a second because the repeated fantasy everything is perfect. 

This is the dream. Created by something as innocent as a scent. 

Another completely innocent thing that is painfully missed by Harry is Louis' voice. Or the way Louis' voice or...his sounds could be made because they were so different than anyone else's. Louis had a tone which was ephemeral at times. Forceful at others, melodic, or fragile. It's just there were so many variations of audible-Louis that it was hard for Harry to have one adjective that summed up all the moments. 

The power of longing for hearing Louis' voice is one reason why hearing something akin to it here in San Jaun del Sur, of all places, was so destructive and heart-wrenching all at once. 

Last, but not least was Louis' mouth. This was something that there was zero innocence behind Harry's paining for having. This was all sexual. It was the total of it. Louis' lips. His tongue. His skill when he took to working Harry's cock with it. It was even the way Louis used his teeth, in love nips and bites. 

Louis had the most amazing ability to use his mouth to sensitize any part of Harry's body and the skill wasn't restricted to Harry's attending dick. Louis could stimulate a place on Harry's body, even someplace as asexual as Harry's knee. Somehow Louis had a way with his lips, or his tongue or the way his mouth blew air. Once he simply blew a puff of warm breath on the back of Harry's knee as he was massaging Harry. This breath sent Harry over the edge despite the innocence of it. 

That was the thing. With Louis things didn't have to be physically overt to make Harry's body come alive and tingle. Even Louis breath on his skin effected Harry in a special way. 

As Harry wakes again from a pained and drugged slumber he is immediatley aware it's months since the last time he had felt Louis mouth, heard Louis' voice, smelled Louis' scent. He knows that he is in Nicargua, he has pains in his his head and his ankle and foot. Right, he recalls, surfing, rocks, blackness, pain. He allows himself to transition through realities from sleepy fantasies and to fully aware. Fully aware leaves him feeling vacant. Louis is gone from him. For months. The dreams about Louis he was having are inexplicably newly fresh and intense. They are hurting him where he is most vulnerable. It's not his foot and ankle. It's not his head. It hurts his heart. But... 

Blast his imagination. Harry pushes away an idea of Louis' scent fresh upon him. He ignores that it was a whisper like Louis' that began this wakeful clarity. He confirms he's alone in this huge bed; the hint about there having been a sensation of lips on the skin of his back was a mirage. 

That feeling hauntingly like Louis' was near must have been in Harry's god-damn, wretched imagination. His brain was having a fuckery with him. Harry dismisses it. 

Opening his eyes, Harry blinks. He sees that his sister is siting in this luxurious room with him. She's on a chair nearby. 

Gemma is reading. She hasn't realized that he is awake. He lays there perfectly still looking at her and for the first time he realizes he is fully awake. What woke him was a the sound. Taught to be afraid or suspicious, of so many deceitful dreams, sleeping fantasies in his past several months, Harry pushes his lids together and presses out fleeting impulses stirred by what he thinks must be his imagination. That "nuanced sound" wasn't Louis. 

He breathes in deep and presses his lids together.

With his eyes shut Harry realizes that he clearly hears each page that Gemma turns as she leafs through her magazine. He can easily identify sounds from outside too because the windows of the spacious suite are open and the noises from the beach below are echoed up. 

Another magazine page turns, Harry chances a glance. Yes, Gemma is still unaware he is awake. 

With his hightened acuity Harry realizes that he had some pains suggestive of his condition. His head still hurts. His ankle and foot have a deep, throbbing pain. He also realizes with his new awareness that his bed feels somehow, newly, more empty. Vaguely, he seems to recall that prior to now he was "kept". That is to say when he woke earlier in a very-drugged, very-pained stupor, he felt a closeness, like someone was holding him. Spooning. He had been the little spoon. It felt like home. 

Behind Harry there is the sound of water running. It takes him but a second to conclude that it is a shower being used in the bathroom of this expansive suite. Hearing the water, Harry makes the guess that it is Greg showering. Harry shifts. He buries himself under his blankets. He doesn't want Greg. 

Movement makes his head hurt. 

It makes his foot and ankle hurt. 

Across the room he hears a door. He dismisses thinking about who is moving around in the room. All he thinks is "Sleep. Get some more sleep. Feel less pain soon."

The subject of him is the question he hears two speak of in hushed voices.

"He needs sleep."

"Yes. Sleep."

"The water in the shower stopped." 

Harry drifts by the power of their suggestion. His head is becoming muddled again.

Greg and Gemma were here. Indeed. Someone was showering. "Sleep. Yes, sleep." Harry thinks. He drifts. Harry lets himself go.

As Harry is about to fade out he hears more door opening and closing noises. Quiet voices. He presumes he's alone because it sounded like Gemma and Greg left the room. Maybe Greg finished his shower and they went out together leaving Harry alone to rest. It's surprising when something pulls the blankets. When a soft, warmth touches his skin he's not prepared. 

Immediately chills go through Harry's body.

Why, he can't be sure. 

Then he realizes it is because of the touch. Then a sound, a whisper. It sends another chill through his body. Quickly after a scent in the air reinforces a challenging idea to reconcile. 

Is his mind playing tricks? 

Harry can't be sure. Perhaps he is so tired, the pain in his head so harsh, but maybe he imagined the familiar touch. The comforting sound. 

Harry can't trust his head to be sure of the voice. 

It whispers, "Arry, curly..."

Next Harry is aware that someone has breeched his space. They've come to straddle their body over his. 

This body comes to rest on Harry's thighs. Hands travel over his skin. They stop caressing him when he feels the hands go to thread into his shoulder-length locks and grip hair. Lips warm on his skin nuzzle his neck, a tongue laps his under his jaw and takes this tickling action moving down his neck.

Something sears into the skin on his collarbone on the left side, like a blood bruise is being made to mark him. The sensations go lower still, lips pressing over inch by inch down the spance of his chest. At nipple height teeth graze his nip, left side, then tongue and lips sooth and suck. Harry jolts under this seduction feeling his body come alive. 

My god this feels so right. Harry is thinking.

What may have been welcomed attention from Greg's some night before when Harry was calculatedly throwing himself upon Greg was one thing. More sensible, no longer ennibriated, Harry realizes a few things. He feels resentment. He's got a terrible headache and an indescribable pain in his lower leg. He remembers now that was surfing with Greg, still drunk or hungover and continuing to pollute his body with more alcohol. He remembers clear now that his last thought was panic as he rode his surf board into a line of rocks. This touching, intimate and tender, makes his boil with anger. 

Harry responds to the gentleness with a violent need to grip this form hovering on him to push the intruder aside. 

With his eyes closed he furrows his brows. His hands go to grasp, clench, bruise flesh of the one seated on top him and his brain immediately tells him his eyes need to confirm the sensations his hands register that deceive him.

Sure enough, it's not Greg sitting perched, straddling him. It's a phantom Louis.

It seems so real.

He feels it in his hands. This illusion is warm with life and soft. 

But this is a phantom. It's certain.

This Louis is speaking to him in the voice Harry remembers and has missed; it's a mix of frail, happy, soft, creaky...so many things. This-phantom is good, fuckery-good...It sounds exactly like his Louis.

Harry can smell this beast too. It smells fresh and clean, newly showered. It's hair is even wet on the ends and spiking here and there like it's dried some yet not taken care to comb or style. This phantom smells so much like his-Louis.

And then the phantom ignores the way Harry still had clenched his grip punishingly tight on its skin and it brings their lips together. Harry knows the deceitful dreams that make him wake to hurt and emptiness, he's experienced it countless times before. So many times and yet this feels right so he is confused. Wretched, despicable phantom.

Pushing the words it says aside, the kiss, the aroma, the feel of warm living skin, Harry looks at it.

How can this be his-Louis?

His-Louis abandoned him in the States months ago. No explanation. Then his-Louis "moved on" because "sex is just sex".

His-Louis was? Okay, so looking at the phantom when it pulled back from a soft, brief, sincere, gentle kiss, Harry had to admit this phantom and his-Louis had the same eyes. Sparkling blue, mischievous. 

But this one? It was different in some ways.

It seemed smaller than his Louis. And more tan.

This Louis was most certainly smaller, frailer because it was so much thinner, even perhaps a bit gaunt-looking. Pronounced collarbones were shockingly apparent. Ribs showed with ease. How it happens Harry can't be certain but his hands move from about waist level, where they first clenched, to rubbing over this-phantom's form going up and down like Harry was making sure this-phantom at least has a physical form and is not only a mirage. 

His hands? They are indeeed slipping over flawless, Louis-like skin. In so doing they feel familiar Louis-like things. Like fullness of hips, which past experince taugh Harry led to what was potentially the most spectacular bum ever awarded a boy. 

Harry's touch also reveals some strangely unfamiliar things. Phantom-Louis is truly too thin. Not only thin enough for bones of collarbones and ribs to be more visible, but also this phantom-Louis has a more sculpted face than his-Louis. 

But the eyes. 

And the lips that go to his again.


	56. Something about that silken mane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone discovers something. For some it's good. For others not so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is still getting final edits, but here you go.
> 
> Typos  
> . . . . .

Harry's heart is elated. It happens as soon as the lips come to his and a familiar kiss molds them into one. What Harry's mind couldn't accept his heart does. The union of their lips once more seems to cauterize a rip that had like a bloodletting draining all of Harry's happiness from him over the months since Louis left Bar 3. This is real, Harry's heart grasps. Louis is here. He's on top of Harry and kissing Harry passionately, yet tender. 

Louis' hands are in Harry's curls, gripping large section of locks in each and pulling with a delicate caution like he knows Harry' head is sensitive but his fingers can't resist "something about that silken mane".

The sound Louis makes amidst their kiss is a mix of moan and a whine timed as Harry becomes accepting of the kiss, their tongues becomes matched in returned effort. All the while Louis begins rutting his naked body against Harry's.

"Yes!" Harry thinks. "Louis is grinding his body against mine."

How this can be, Harry can't fathom. What he was sure minutes, just seconds, before was a phantom he can now feel is not. It's no mirage. It feels like his Louis. The way it touches him. The kiss. The sounds. The skin under his hands because, right, Harry has had to get as many senses working as he can to bring this surprising reality into clarity. 

Louis' skin is a soft as ever. His body firm, where it was always firm before. His arms defined and strong. His thighs powerful against Harry's who's taking breath-starving passion from Louis without contest or resistance.

Something though, is certainly different. Louis is bare.

Bare might be the word. It just seems he's exposed. Not because he's naked but because he seems so small. Small and "exposed" like he was fading in the time they were apart. 

Moaning has slipped into words Louis stutters to Harry, something about "Harry wasn't breathing". The sounds are all expressions of his fear about losing Harry. Louis, it occurs to Harry, is the one who pulled Harry from the water. So Harry tries to think about that. It was Louis who saved him. Harry tries not to think of any one of the other the big questions that loom. Questions like why is Louis here in Central America? Why does he look so tan, like he's been here for a long, long time and living on a beach. And why oes he look so gaunt and thin? 

Why all those months ago did Louis unexpectedly leave Bar 3 and give a pledge of love to Michael? Why did he never bother to reach out to Harry once he got back to England? Why did he give what he had with Harry away so easily? Why did he crush Harry's heart?

Harry is puzzling these unknowns when he feels a scorch of liquid heat hit his cheekbone.

He realizes this is a tear. Louis has come to tears while they are kissing.

Why is Louis crying? 

Why? Why, would the one who cast Harry off, cry now?

Harry pushes Louis up and away only to part them so he can see Louis' face.

Louis looks gutted. He fights to pull himself back toward Harry, but Harry puts him upright once again so he can see Louis' expression. Look into his eyes. Take stock of this thin ghost of the boy he loved.

Louis resigns himself to let Harry put him seated upright. He's stills himself over Harry's upper thighs. Ironically, Harry hadn't taken note before but only now Harry realizes, with some space between them, that he and Louis both have a nice foundation of an erection going from their brief contact. 

Harry doesn't know what to say, but he sees what he's looking for. He sees it in Louis' eyes. Louis loves him. Right now, inexplicably thrown together by fate, Louis looks at Harry with Love. It's real love. Like the knock-you-down-speechless-and-dumb-for-finding-a-thought kind of love. 

Harry takes one one glance over what he can see of Louis. Louis looks deeply back into his eyes, and says one word.

"Please..." Tears start rolling anew down Louis' face. It's like Harry was the one who did the rejecting. 

Harry pulls Louis back to him. How can he not? What were the things that happened and tore them apart? Harry didn't know. He couldn't see Louis looking so desperate to be locked together and hold Louis at a distance for a second longer. Somehow. Something didn't add up. This pushing Louis away was like Harry was doing was like holding the globe on his shoulders. Harry isn't Hercules. He lets Louis melt into him. Their bodies as one. Tightly pressed together, skin on skin. 

It's penetrating and unbounded their kiss when he accepts Louis back. It's the type of kiss where one can think of nothing but it and yet be lost because it transcends. Rapture.

Neither hears the door to the suite opening with voices numbering more than two coming from the hall.

Then, Louis is ripped away. Literally, ripped from Harry. Harry was in his transcendence, but then, like a vacuum, something pulled Louis away so shockingly instantaneous.

***

Earlier when Greg and Gemma left the suite leaving Harry and Louis alone together, it was a necessity for Gemma so she could check in with her parents. 

For two days following Harry's accident she had been notifying them in cryptic messages that she sent over from the hotel. She left out details of her and Harry. All she revealed was that they "were staying in town on Des' behalf", implying they were spying on Greg. She used that as a lie to delay consequences in the aftermath of Harry's near fatal accident which was precipitated by Harry sleeping around with Greg, who was an unqualified surf instructor. Gemma was purposefully vague, but since she had always been the "easy child" her parents never expected deception. 

San Juan del Sur is such a small town. So as coincidence would have it as Gemma and Greg were finally comfortable leaving Harry's room, Gemma's parents were making a trip into town. They couldn't know that she would be contacting them soon, or that first, she and Greg needed to have an open exchange of stories. Each had secrets. 

Des and Anne got to the small town on an errand to pick up the phones that were ready for the family, newly activated for connecting to their old numbers through a local cell service. It was inside the cell provider store where they overheard the rumors. 

A couple of locals were gossiping about some tourists. Something about a brother and sister from England. Apparently, the entire community was talking about the pair for the last two days because it was big new for San Juan del Sur; there was a serious accident in the cove. The English boy was surfing with the manager who oversees the fancy new hotel. A near fatal accident occured. 

This news sent Des and Anne rushing from the phone store to the hotel. At the hotel they found Gemma and Greg sitting together having coffee in a shady, secluded spot overlooking the pools and beach. A quick, panicked query put Des and Anne onto the truth. Harry had indeed been injured two days prior. He was recovering comfortably in a luxury suite. He had indeed nearly died. One of the hotel's surf instructors, one who was not even assigned to Harry, had miraculously saved Harry's life. 

How and why Gemma would attempt to keep this from her parents for seconds, yet alone hours, or two days was beyond her parents' comprehension. Immediately Anne needed to see her son. Des, in contrast, was conflicted. All he could focus on was where to place blame. After all, it was his plan to use his own kids to sneak a look at Greg's actions. That backfire. It nearly resulted in the worst of outcomes.

The four of them, Anne, Des, Gemma and Greg, rushed to the suite where Greg and Gemma said they left Harry "resting" while they talked downstairs outside the lobby where they wouldn't be disturbing his sleep. 

No one had prepared either Anne nor Des for the idea that Harry was not entirely alone. 

But then Des and Anne weren't the only ones who had a surprise to adjust to upon retuning so unexpectedly quick to the suite. 

**** 

Greg was still suffering from more ramifications with the backstory supplied by Gemma that came into light minutes before Des and Anne showed up interrupting their reveals. Gemma had been clarifying things for Greg as she was finally able to put pieces of a puzzle together in the aftermath of Harry's accident. Minutes before her parents unexpectedly met them she was able to tell Greg things they never discussed in whispered conversations during the sensitive recovery stage following Harry's near death. Even from the little of what Gemma said to Greg of her conclusions before they were interrupted there was enough of a picture of Harry and Louis to send Greg reeling. 

It was necessary to Gemma that she confess to Greg things like the fact that she and Harry were spying on him for the company that owns his hotel. She decided she had to be honest with him before she could finally alert her parents about Harry. This was because Greg was about to have a massive case of small world karma kickbacks when Des got there. Had she and Harry discovered Greg's embezzling? No. So many questions were still unanswered about Greg when Harry nearly died and everything changed focus. But then, even before Gemma began confessing their deception Greg had already begun to get the hint of coincidence. 

Indeed, Greg was discovering exactly how small the world is right after Louis, of all people, pulled Harry's body from the water and death. 

Harry wasn't conscious for hours after the initial visit by the doctor to tend to him in the quiet, expansive luxury suite. Once the physician was content that Harry was stable and he left the room. Greg no longer focused on Harry. He realizes an odd thing about Louis' behavior. 

At first when Louis looked nervous and shaken on the beach having literally just snatched Harry back from death, it was natural, understandable for anyone in his position. Pulling a victim to safety and restoring life to a drown victim, is no small feat. But even within in the very first few minutes on the beach, not far from the rocks that nearly killed Harry, as crowd formed around them it became apparent to everyone that Louis knew Harry.

Greg, Gemma and Felipe all heard Louis use Harry's name and the nickname "curly". He was the first to reach Harry and it was unlikely that Louis had been able hear them screaming the name as he was swimming to Harry. He knew it before. He spoke to the unconscious Harry in a manner of familiarity. He said "his curly", "his love" when he suspended mouth to mouth resuscitation and rolled Harry to his side to permit Harry coughing up sea water and gasping his first life-returning breaths. He cooed softly the name "Harry" as he brought Harry back. 

It took time to get Harry fully off the beach, call in a doctor, but as minutes ticked by with the doctor assuring Greg and Gemma he'd had Harry cared for properly, Louis was shaking, nervous, rambling about about Harry. Louis' rambles were like he was in shock too. This had started the instant Louis stopped successful resuscitation; he began shaking uncontrollably, saying Harry's name over and over. It was then Gemma made the connection. This is another thing she told Greg just within minutes before her parents showed up at the hotel surprisingly catching Greg and their in private tête-a-tête. 

Gemma recognized Louis on the beach as Louis successfully performed CPR. This surfer boy was the same boy in the photos which Harry cherished from his experiences in the States. True he was much thinner-looking. Tanner. And he looked an absolute mess from the stress of saving a life. But this was that boy. Finally Gemma had a name for the one Harry never spoke of. It is "Louis". Greg called him Louis. So had Felipe as they were bringing Harry from the beach into the hotel.

As Gemma calmed Louis in the immediate minutes after the doctor's arrival, she softly assured Harry's savior, that Harry would be okay. She told him that as much to convince herself as for Louis' benefit because they all still feared possible effects from impact with the rocks as the physician assessed unconscious Harry. 

As much as Greg focused on what the doctor was doing for Harry he also heard the conversation Gemma was having with Louis as she tried to sooth his trauma-like behavior. That made Greg do some calculating of the meaning of this small world he found himself in. 

Harry and Louis had a past. Louis had been vulnerable when Greg snatched him from England. The vulnerability Greg took advantage of was because Louis was in love with some other boy and had been rejected by the boy. Something about returned letters, Greg remembered. Suddenly it dawned on Greg. This Harry was Louis' lover. The one who rejected Louis and opened a door for Greg's manipulation. 

This is about where the understanding was, a bit more details were gleaned by Greg eaves dropping on Louis and Gemma in their few, brief whispered exchanges in the hours and days that followed as Harry recouperated in a luxury suite. All this time Greg doted on the suite's inhabitants. He personally attended to whatever needs Gemma requested for Harry, herself or Louis. Greg gave Louis space to have freedom from how things had been since Louis rejected Greg and refused to willingly stay with Greg. 

Louis took the freedom. He assumed his place to be tightly cuddled up to Harry. Louis offered around the clock spooning of the curly-haired lad and barely did anything else even as Gemma tried to make him care a little for himself "so to be healthy when Harry comes around in a few days". 

After two days of this sequestering a few things needed to happen. Gemma forced the issue. She couldn't keep her brother's condition, a broken ankle and foot, mild head trauma, a secret from her parents forever. In that time Gemma had made Louis feel comfortable that Harry wouldn't disappear if he left the bed and showered. Also, Louis hadn't eaten much, even though Greg had made certain that a bounty of food was coming to the room for them. 

The time seemed right for Gemma and Greg to talk. Full disclosure between them. Gemma felt she had to get out of the room and to a public meeting spot to tell her parents the story of Harry's accident. She was planning to send for them by a messager from the hotel's concierge after she and Greg talked but her parents surprisingly showed up prematurely after hearing frightening gossip around town. 

In the brief time that Gemma and Greg had to talk openly and honestly Gemma gathered that Greg didn't seem as nafarious to her as her father had insinuated when Des sent them to spy on Greg. But then again, something about him had Gemma confused. 

She could see something, a history, between Louis and Greg. 

Twice, in the two days they were all sequestered around Harry in the suite, muffins were thrown at Greg. Both times Louis did this when Greg mistakenly chimed in with Gemma's suggestion that Louis eat some of the tasty treats brought to their room. Louis looked so hungry when Gemma handed him muffins, but no, as soon as Louis was told by Greg "yes Louis, you really need to eat", Louis forcefully lobbed the pastries, plate and all, at Greg's head. It wasn't as bad as the time Gemma said for Louis to have some tea, handing it to him, and he sent and entire teacup, tea, plate and all, soaring at Greg for seconding that. 

What originally Gemma thought was simple tension, because maybe Greg had fallen for her brother who had a past with Louis, Gemma realized was something more. It wasn't that some low-skilled employee of his, a surfer, had a previous claim with Harry. It was much deeper. Louis hated Greg. HATED him. Greg seemed to care for Louis. Gemma came to notice how Greg stole peeks at the pixie of a lad more than he fused over his one night stand, boy toy, Harry, the person who nearly drown. 

All this was complicated and convoluted. Gemma would have preferred to come to an understanding of Greg and Louis' story before seeing her parents. But none of the four of them could have expected an even greater surprised when they, Anne, Des, Gemma and Greg, got to the suite and opened the door...

...

Displayed bare before them on the giant bed are Harry and Louis. 

Every sun-kissed inch of Louis is exposed and he is straddling Harry, kissing the injured lad who lays beneath him. Harry is completely naked as well. 

The two have skin of such contrast that Harry's arm closest to their view was strikingly obvious in its whiteness against Louis' golden skin. It is reaching up, a hand is deliberately placed gripping a handful of Louis' plump bum. If their positions and bare bodies aren't saying enough about them, anyone who is quick to assess could see from the other hand of Harry's what exactly is happening. In Harry's hand is a tight fisting. Their two fully erect cocks are squeezed together in zhaarys grip. Something of Louis' hovering position suggests he was moving in the precluding steps to positioning himself for seating onto Harry once Harry released them. 

Certainly, had the foursome been even a few seconds later they would have opened the door to discover Louis impaling himself on Harry's dick.

Quick assessments weren't possible. Before the fact the door had opened registered to Harry and Louis, before anyone but Des got over their surprisingly badly-timed interruption, Des leaps to action. 

He rushes into the room, bellowing, and within a few strides is to his son's bed. Cavalier and without regard of anything but his own rage, Des grabs Louis while screaming at him. "You fucking little gay whore! Not with my son!" 

The other three at the door have yet to unfreeze from their shock before Des grabs Louis by one arm and his neck. Des yanks Louis away from Harry like Louis is a feather-weight rag doll. He literally throws Louis across the room with such force that Louis is only stopped as he hits a large bureau located on the nearest wall in the direction Des threw him.

It's a bone breakingly loud whack the instant before Louis falls back reverberating from the force of the impact back onto the floor. 

Harry puts himself on the floor coming off the bed in an unchecked, involuntary response to this attack on his lover. His sudden moves are not tolerated by his condition. For that reason, or the attack on Louis, or both, Harry screams out in pain.

In this mayhem Anne and Gemma break from their shock and run to Harry. Greg charges over to Louis.

Des' rage continues. He ignores everyone voicing their outrage and continues to look like his marauding fit isn't over. Des shouts again turning to Louis. "I thought I fixed you when I sent all your hundreds of gay-ass porn letters back to you! You should have gotten the hint? It should have been painfully obvious to you that the first thing my son, who is not gay, did was reject your gay ass and this stupid gay phase you tried to pull him into," 

Greg is quick to wrap Louis in his arms and he pulls Louis off the floor. He wants to provide a front of protection because he's certain that Des is flat out uncontrollable, crazed with rage. Des ignores Greg and is glaring at Louis. He is shifting weight like he's going to use his clenched fists to do more damage. Behind Des is Anne and Gemma are gingerly putting Harry, who's repeating through a very pained panting of breaths, "don't hurt him, don't you dare hurt him...", back onto the bed. 

The two women are shouting at Des. Gemma is flat out calling her father insane. Anne is shouting at Des, "to get out, leave that boy alone..." 

Greg keeps stepping around, edging away from Des, keeping Louis tight to his body to protect Louis. Des is frighteningly threatening. 

Having Harry gently laid back on the bed the women move to intervene physically. Anne gets in front of Des and slaps him hard across the face. Gemma rushes to bring a sheet from the bed for Louis. Greg wraps Louis in the cover and Gemma stays in front of them so she is blocking Des' route to Louis with her body. 

Anne continues to insist her husband snap out of it, leave the boy alone. She pushes him back. She asks if he is completely insane. She looks like she's considering hitting him again as she looks to take a vase to strike him with if needed. 

Everyone heard this confession by Des. Des had violated his son' rights. Des read his son's mail. Des sent the letters back to Louis that were meant for Harry to discover upon his return. More importantly, Des did this all very deliberately, timed in a deceitful way to do maximum damage; to make it seem that Harry sent them back himself as soon he got home. Des sought to end a relationship.


	57. Threesome revisited.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Editing ...

Niall and Liam are deep into each other. Each is in pursuit of their orgasms. 

Face to face, Niall on his back, Liam supporting much of his weight with his arms as he is talking softly to Niall who is pumping, his dick at a speedy pace yet clearly ready, just straining a bit. He is wanting to be waiting for Liam, to hear Liam say that he can come. 

It's taken a long time to get Niall here, again, so soon. Afterall he was literally riding out an orgasm sitting on top of Zayn a short while ago. Zayn, who was doing his classic Persian Lord thing while Niall rode him, disturbingly casually reclined on his back, letting someone else climb on board and do all the the work. 

Once Zayn was content after ample "Ziall time" he moved off to the side to let Liam and Niall have some twosome pleasure of their own while he smoked. It was then that Zayn went back to taking liberties with Louis' letters. 

In the large bed that was shared by the three of them, Zayn is undistracted as he reads despite Liam and Niall, both so close to cumming. Liam is battling to keep their releases staved, determined to extend enjoying their edge. It's spectacular to see, arousing to watch, but somehow Zayn is "transported elsewhere". 

Scattered around Zayn on the bed is a pile of letters. Some of the letters are open, placed neatly to the side since Zayn has already read them. He continues to smoke casually in bed as he takes one after another and another opening them and reading. It's as if it's no big deal to Zayn that his two "life partners" are fucking within arm's reach of him. Zayn is so deeply inthralled with his reading. He casts occasional comments to Niall and Liam, as if they are only casually engaged too. Like they are reading a book, or watching tv. Not at all like they are focused on having passionate sex. Not at all like they are at a point where orgasms are imminent. 

Zayn takes yet another drag on his cigarette and shares something of particular interest with them. 

"Niall. Remember the first time? You know when Louis was trying to break down your insecurities? Remember that instead of you and Louis fixing bridles, I come walking into when the barn to find Louis sucking you off? Remember that? Hey, wasn't that was the first time any guy had ever touched you like that? You were so beautiful cumming down his throat. So this letter to Harry is about that. It's Louis explaining to Harry what he did. Why. How he got you and me hooked up with Li...."

Zayn looks over at them because there is no reply. Not even a grunt of acknowledgment. 

Of course not. How could there be? 

Whether it was just a complete coincidence or the mention of coming, Niall begins to ejaculate, splattering up his own torso. His face is red and so is Liam's. As Niall shouts out his pleasure it sends Liam over the edge. Liam is quick to withdrawal and walk on his knees up closer to Niall's head because Niall is whining for want of Liam's cock clearly inspired, maybe again by what Zayn said; Niall wants to catch some of Liam's cum. 

Zayn continues like this sex at his arm's reach is still nothing different than causal hanging around together as any lads would do. Nothing to see. Nothing unusual. Just bros. 

Zayn puts the letter into the "read" pile and goes to open another. The other two who have begun post-ejacualte kissing and tenderness. They are distracted with each other so he shares his latest insight. 

"It's pretty clear Louis is writing a mix of stories. Most of them are about his lust for Harry, his fantasies about what he wants to do with Harry when Harry gets home. There are some of his stories of what he did before he and Harry, things he thinks Harry should know. It's a lot of explaining about the things Harry worried about, distrusted Louis for. One of the earliest letters has the story of why he went to Bar 3..." 

Zayn looks over because the two lovers beside him have settled down and are silent. They have faltered in their post orgasmic kissing. Zayn sees that while Liam is looking at him as if he is at least listening to Zayn, Niall, who Liam has wrapped in his arms, is flat out asleep. Liam makes a face and puts his fingers to his lips to indicated "hush". "Don't wake their baby." 

Zayn smiles and lowers his voice to a whisper. 

"It's remarkable Liam. Louis was falsely sent there. Some girl claimed he got her pregnant. It was either reveal he was gay or let the facts come out in time when she had the baby. He and his mum thought he had to protect an image, for sake of his grandpa Keith. And for his little sisters. It's all so sweet, really. A family uncertain in a world of people, well, kinda like what you experienced. You and Louis are so different." 

Liam closes his eyes. After hours of sex in various combinations even Zayn should be tired too. Liam wants to sleep but the unknowns about Louis disappearance had worsened Liam's fears. Thus they made a decision to take over investigating it which ultimately lead to them finding a box of returned letters. While the letters were great, having them posed a second problem. Harry seems missing too. How do they connect this bounty to Harry? 

For weeks they had tried calling Harry constantly. His mailbox was always full. His phone didn't take new messages. In the letters they couldn't resist reading they had found Louis' number. His was phone number was completely dead, disconnected. Louis' family still had no information about his whereabouts. They had been told his disappearance did not warrant an investigation because video camera showed what appeared to be two men, gay lovers, traveling together. 

"Zee, m' sleepy. Let's put the letters aside for now and cuddle. We can think about this after sleep." Liam slurred. But then he thought more and added sympathetically and more invigorated. "It never made sense about Louis being there. He was too sweet under the sassiness. Like Bar 3 got something of a magical pixie. I think back about it and it just seemed like only his mouth was wicked. And that was just talk. He wasn't ever unkind that I recall." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Could resist "climb on board" from Zayn because it's fun to do silly references from song lyrics. Afterall this story opened with Zayn. It's fitting there are some significant Zayn-elements at the end.
> 
> Love to you all who've stayed in thought this insanely long journey. Your comments have sustained me. I see the same fics on every rec list and lose confidence that I can even write a simple sentence, much less an interesting story. But then this fiction is really meant to be about something more than rec-lists. 
> 
> Hopefully this fiction reinforces the idea that we can be "off the norm" or outside the expectation. We can be flawed, like the little "fat kid" (relay race of ? Chapter 8? ) yet be the one to win the race. We can be emotionally-wrecked, yet find love. This is really meant to celebrate love, even unconventional like a threesome, like a Larry. Love to you all. Thanks for reading. 
> 
> Be safe. Be strong. Love yourself.


	58. Something great

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In London... Zayn, Liam and Niall are continuing to read through Louis' letters to Harry. Niall and Liam turn words from one letter into a song.
> 
> Meanwhile, in San Juan Del Sur, the immediate aftermath of Des' rage takes the evolution of fate one step closer to full disclosure of all who have tried to block the course of love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Something Great" is from the album Midnight Memories by One Direction. Credit to the artist and writers whose work is presented here as a great appreciation among fans and with no point of profit.
> 
> Thank you to One Direction. This is a work of fiction. The love the band inspires is not.

Liam wakes to the smell of breakfast. Sausages, eggs, toast and of course, potatoes. He can smell coffee too, he stirs gently because after so long being a union of three Liam knows the other two's best and worst of habits. 

Zayn is always a late sleeper. He's the body that lies in the bed bedside Liam. The two were tightly pressed together so Liam tries moves away with as little wiggling as to leave the bed with this exotic prince undesturbed.

Zayn's need for sleep amuses Liam. Maybe it's because Zayn frequently spends hours after Liam and Niall are asleep doing his art. Maybe it's because Zayn is just, well, naturally more tired; needs more sleep, maybe. Who is to say what is normal or what is right? Certainly after all this time together the one thing Liam has learned is that Zayn is a mass consumer of sleep. It's kind of like how Niall is a mass consumer of food. Food? Liam asks himself acknowledging his hunger. /p>

The smell of savory odors of home cooking suggests to Liam that Niall has breakfast ready.

Padding into the kitchen of their flat Liam finds Niall is sitting drinking some coffee and oblivious to the plate in front of him because he is staring at something in his hand.

Niall has a fork loaded with food in right hand, but his focus is on what is held in his left. He is reading with his mouth partially open like he is astonished. It's another one of Louis' letters to Harry that has him riveted.

One by one the three of them had been reading the letters. Taking turns. Sometimes reading them to each other. Sometimes reading them when alone and risking facing arousal with no one to comfort them because Louis talks a lot of shit in his letters about sex. But the letters weren't just pornography. There was so much history and insight in all of them.

And fact of the matter is that these letters make Liam, Niall and Zayn feel a little less over-wrought about how two such valued-friends seemed completely vanquished from their world. It's a mystery. 

The look on Niall's face suggests that he was absorbed by a particularly emotional letter. 

"Niall?" 

Niall looks at Liam. He's has tears in his eyes. 

"Liam. This is so hard to read. You got to look at this one."

Niall leaves the letter on the table for Liam and he stands to leave the table abruptly. It's unheard of for Niall to let food go unfinished, particularly given that he had eaten very little of the feast on his plate, but clearly the letter consumed him with its impact. 

As Liam picks up the letter and reads as he hears Niall stumbling around in their sitting room. 

The letter begins. 

"My sweet curly, I woke this morning from another dream about you. Like all my dreams, your lips were ..." 

Liam looks up from the letter as Niall comes back into the kitchen. Niall has his guitar in hand. 

"Have you got to the part, where you hear IT in the words Louis wrote?" Niall asks. Niall sits down and begins to strum. He is checking the tuning while Liam reads. 

"I'm just at the beginning, with Louis writing what seems like it's going to be yet another graphic description featuring Harry's obscenely erotic lips." Liam says. 

"Go on then. Read more. Pay attention once you get past the part where Louis writes he knows that while Harry never confessed his love back to him, that he feels certain Harry fell in love too. That is significant. It's the first time in these letters that Louis writes about understanding that Harry couldn't say it, couldn't open up yet about what he felt. And Louis writes about how he knew it, believed it and would wait forever for it." 

Niall strums a few times, readjusts strums again, stops. He's sorting out something with a few notes. Liam skims along the words, like Niall said the smutty opening fades into this tritise about Harry's emotions. Louis writes that it's okay that Harry couldn't say what he felt. Louis understands. There's a deep wound that is still raw, or at least sensitive. This was never admitted by Harry, perceptive Louis writes about relying on his instincts. 

The letter goes on with Louis writing that he can wait for the words, "I love you", as long as Harry accepts him, he'll wait forever "for something great". 

Then it hits Liam. Niall is playing guitar, laying out a tune. Liam reads the words aloud and the tune and the words on the paper come together. It's the birth of a song. The words written in Louis' letter to Harry are a sonnet about how strongly Louis believes Harry will say it one day, eventually. No matter how long it takes, Louis will wait. 

Liam keeps reading even though he too finds himself teary-eyed, the powers of how strongly Louis felt that Harry will come out with the confession of love, it will be something great. The letter is a lover's promise. It's very clear there is simply no way Louis took a trip with a new lover casting aside Harry. Louis has to be somewhere waiting for Harry. Liam reads on as Niall syncs the melody to the words. 

"One day you'll come into my world and say it all. You say we'll be together even when you're lost. One day you'll say these words I thought you'll never say. You say we're better off together in our bed. 

I want you here with me, like how I pictured it, so I don't have to keep imagining. 

Come on, jump out at me. Come on, bring everything. Is it too much to ask for something great? 

The script was written and I could not change a thing. I want to rip it all to shreds and start again. One day I'll come into your world and get it right, I'll say we're better off together here tonight." 

Liam elevates his cadence taking some of the words and quiet literally singing them in a repeat with the tune Niall is laying out. 

"I want you here with me, like how I pictured it, so I don't have to keep imagining. Come on, jump out at me, come on, bring everything. Is it too much to ask for something great?"

Niall and Liam stop there and smile. Both have tears in their eyes forcing them to pause because they can't see clearly. They've taken Louis' words written for Harry and made them a song. There's still yet more in the letter. Liam reads this remaining bit aloud and his voice is shaken. There is so much devotion and love in this letter. 

"You're all I want, so much it's hurting..."

*** 

"You're all I want, so much it's hurting..." Louis' voice is whispering to Harry. 

The voice is shaken, raspy. Perhaps it's to be expected because Louis' neck is shading into red immediately from the bruising. Des had quite literally rung Louis' neck. Louis' must be hurting elsewhere too because his words are slow paced between shallow breaths. 

Moments ago Anne and Gemma successfully pushed Des from the room in a brawling fashion that required extraordinary effort on their part. As the women locked Des out, who was still unrelentingly threatening verbally from the hallway, Greg moved carry Louis to Harry's side.

Greg's eyes showed fear as he laid Louis down. Louis was concerningly limp in his arms. Some duress from the impact with the hard, sharp edge of the furniture louis hit, adding to what seemed a momentary loss of conscious from the way Des' brutality choaked Louis out, left Greg fearful. But Greg breathes a sigh of relief when he sees that Louis place next to Harry appears newly conscious, though acting slightly incoherent. Louis is immediately,mumbling, though somewhat straining to say what he wants as he realizes he is beside Harry. Harry greets Louis by pulling their bodies into one, his own discomforts caused in the attack by his father on Louis are severe but seemingly forgotten. 

"...you're all I want..." Louis repeats as he rolls over and tucks himself into Harry. 

Clearly Louis wants only Harry. Pain, loss of breath, short-lasting unconsciousness aside, Louis' lethargic moves in the minutes that Greg held him being a barrier to more abuse and impending advance by Des, were lover's efforts directed at wanting his contact with his Curly. The second that Greg was free from concern for the threat of more violence he took Louis over to Harry's bed as the women closed Des from the room. Greg could see pain in Louis' face when he laid the lad down. Despite it, and more than fear, Louis' yearning for contact with Harry was visible above all. 

Harry was grappling with his own pain while wanting to connect to Louis too. How shocking it must have been to be clearly aroused and blissed only to have the feelings literally ripped apart and replaced with fear and pain. 

The beauty of the way the two seamed together, one still broken, one dazed, is captivating. Louis hands thread into Harry's hair. His head tucks under Harry's chin as he presses his lips onto Harry's chest. Content. 

Harry's arms envelope Louis. Harry wraps the smaller lad in his arms such that every inch of bare skin that can be shielded is covered in his embrace. Meanwhile Harry's looking directly into Greg's eyes, holding Greg accountable there. Greg considers what he should do next. Behind Greg at the door is the sound of Anne arguing with her husband who is banging on the door and shouting. It's all threats and rants from Des. Shouts of threats like "that's my son", "this is my hotel". This nto directed at Anne, but Anne is not taking it as acceptable. 

Everything Des says portrays as a man still violently unhinged. Anne and Gemma, unpersuaded and nearly exhausted from the strain of his rage, are not moved by his commands. 

With that as the backdrop Greg fixes on examining the two lovers. There's an eerie calmness in Harry's green eyes. It's not the reckless boy that Greg was partying with before the near fatal surf accident. Not the sloppy drunk Greg was using to fulfill his needs to push aside his desire for Louis. It is some completely different person. 

Calm. 

Confident. 

Like having Louis brought to him has sealed some wound, matured him. Harry continues to stare at Greg as Greg is uncertain what to do. 

Cursing through the door still, Des' shouts distract Greg from the intensity of Harry's eerie, calm stare. Then his attention is drawn back to the two lovers when Greg hears Louis' raspy, muted quips spoken into Harry's body. "You're all I want," Louis begins repeating. Maybe Louis hears Des' uniting threats and frightens him. Greg can see how Harry's embrace isn't filling Harry's need either; it's not enough to consume Louis fully as a protected part of him. Needing more, Harry makes small moves with his hands to comfort the shaken one he holds while continuing reflectively staring at Greg. 

Greg grasps in an instant what he needs to do as hears Des' u stoppable rage continuing from the hallway. Greg picks up the hotel phone that is bedside and speaks to the person at the front desk. 

"Eyetta? This is Greg James. I need you to send a security detail to this room. We need assist with a threatening intruder immediately." 

Greg hangs up the phone. Harry's watchfulness, unwavering as at last he at least speaks. Harry's voice is low, and well, still calm. Chillingly calm. 

"He owns the hotel, he's shouting that, do you hear? He's from the company, so yeah, he owns you. You don't have a clue how much damage you have done, or worse." 

Greg nods and says, "Oh I think I do. Actually, I don't think you have a full grasp of exactly what damage I've done and who is worse. Not yet, actually, not yet." 


	59. Not for Sale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the proceeding chapter the threesome in London read through letters Louis had sent to Harry that were returned. Meanwhile in Nicaragua the reunited Harry and Louis were interrupted by Harry's family and Greg. Chaos ensues. This pick up there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse my typos. Xo

Harry maintains his hold on Louis through the minutes that follow which includes several events. 

First, a detail of hotel security were heard scuffling in the hall. Clearly, Des was being restrained. From within the room Greg was speaking through a closed, locked door offering directions to his security team. Meanwhile Anne, taken past the point of having any patience with her husband, is chiming in with suggestions of her own about the handling of Des. She suggests through the still closed door, "but don't be to gentle with him", "an accidental kick to the gut might settle him proper". On she streams her uncensored comments. 

These suggestions would be humorous if it were not a shocking turn away from the woman's life-long attitude that had been consistently loving for her husband through years and years of marriage. 

But then all that history might have been lost with the shocking revelation. Afterall, everyone is newly aware that Des had deceived his family, betraying all trust; he had deliberately set out to destroy a relationship with someone involving his son solely because that person was another of the same sex. 

Then again how could Des ever suspect his deception would be discovered? What were the odds that the same boy would come into Harry's life again around the world from their home by pure happen-chance? Furthermore still, how much greater were the odds that it would be that boy who would save Harry's life upon this inconceivable one in a million twist-of-fate? 

The disturbance in the hall quieted. Greg chances opening the door to peek out. Seeing his security has Des in hand he steps out to join them. How would this go? What point would it become to others that Des was "the company", therefore their "boss"? 

In the minutes immediatley following Des' brutal outburst none of that matters to the four remaining inside the hotel room. Anne picks up a phone and calls for the doctor.

Harry shifts from scowling at the disturbance at the door to focusing on Louis. Louis is tucked into him and, despite having his head bent forward so his face is hidden against Harry's chest, Harry can tell Louis is muting sounds like he might be crying.

Speaking on the phone, Harry hears his mum tell someone, the doctor, that her son might have "inflamed his injuries", and she says, "they have another concern". She looses her place in what she is saying when her eyes meet Harry's. Her mouth opens mid-statement and her internal scrambling for the right words is visible in her pause. Anne sees the pleading look in her son's eyes. This is not just any boy. Harry loves this person. And he's afraid for it. 

How does Anne take this thing with Harry and Louis? Who is this boy to her; she has been launched into a sudden introduction in the most of bizarre of manners to Louis? Louis was caught fully exposed, mid-sexual act with her son. His was hand holding their combined erections, his body positioned like in seconds he'd be bringing her son's erection into himself with a roll of his hips, a release of his own cock and a well-placed seating. 

The timing for the four to return to the room and discovering them could have been worse, maybe, but not really. No. So how does she describe "the other concern" to a person on the phone with whom she is seeking medical help? 

She covers the phone and meets Harry's questioning watchfulness with a comment directed to Harry before she resumes her phone conversation. To Harry Anne says, "I saw all those letters, Harry. They came in everyday for months, since September, I think. I'd been putting them aside for safe keeping in a basket on the top shelf in the study, or so I thought they were safe. I didn't know who this person, L. Thompson, who was writing to you, or how important the letters might be. It didn't matter. The letters were to you. They were y o u r s. You're old enough to have freedoms, to make your choices, live your life..."

Anne pauses. Her eyes focus on Louis' sun-kissed, golden back. 

Louis is still cuddled into Harry's chest. Anne notices his body trembling slightly and he's more quiet. Perhaps Anne can detect the same signs as Harry of Louis' trauma, the small sudders of his form are suggestions that he was hurt, quietly sobbing. Shaking her head in a silent, resolute, maternal "oh fuck no" like she was not having this abuse go unchecked, Anne spoke again into the phone with determination and authority picking up her conversation with whomever. 

"Um, sorry, lo siento, my son's b o y f r i e n d has injuries, he's hurt, we think. He's the one who rescued my son from drowning. We need a doctor to come immediately..."

Harry's eyes welled with tears. 

His boyfriend. 

His mum said it. She said, "his b o y f r i e n d!" 

"Louis," Harry whispers, hearing his mum confirm the doctor would be arriving soon, "You, you want a doctor?" 

Louis' face lifts from the tuck. His eyes open and he looks deeply into Harry's eyes. For Harry it was like seeing into and endlessly prismatic pool of ever deepening green-hinted blue. 

"You're all I want..." Louis whispers so quietly that only Harry hears him. 

Anne gently places a hand on Louis' shoulder blade, unknowingly disrupting Louis' words. She whispers, "Son, you need to be looked at. The doctor is coming." 

Anne pulls her hand back abruptly. Maybe she sees how her son is staring at his lover and she gets it that she interrupted some force between them. Her withdrawal directs Harry's attention to a section of Lous' skin not too far from where Anne's hand was. Instead of loosing himself in the deep endless pool of blue that is his lover's eyes he takes in Louis more as a whole. 

On Louis' neck and arm are suggestions of bruising irritations, a red discoloration. Harry thinks he can actually see ihe skin shading darker to purple as he looks at it. This is a clear a mark of the force with which Des grappled Louis when he pulled Louis and Harry apart. Harry can also see on Louis' chest a irritating, red line where the,skin is mostly brown from sun. Only a sharp edge could make such a blemish. Of this Harry is certain. 

Des had heaved Louis violently with ease across the room. Harry fears the hitching in Louis' words when he spoke of "all he wanted" is a sign of the pain; pain with only evidence in a narrow stripe of red. 

Before Harry can ask Louis about this, Louis' fingers quickly slip over Harry's body. They glide up, slipping softly, maybe protectively of Harry like Louis feels Harry's concern growing. As they gingerly glide over Harry's neck they create goosebumps and shivers in their wake before they fade into the forest of Harry's long hair. It is there they take a firm hold. Louis grabs handful of the locks and pulls making twists of curls with a finger of each hand as he breathes words in a whisper bringing his lips softly to Harry's, "...you're all I want, so much it's hurting..."

With those words, Louis' lips press to Harry's. The twisting of fingers in Harry's silky hair bind Louis and Harry like a rope to an anchor. 

Even if Louis had no hold of him, Harry could never pull away. Harry thinks this; his mind takes a momentary diversion where he wonders if Louis too by the act of twisting curls is reminded of the same memory. A dèja-vous floods Harry with the sensation of the exact emotion relived as a delicate finger lets a curl snap free. 

In the memory it was at Bar 3, Harry recalls. That was the very first time Louis took ahold of Harry's hair exactly like this. Only then, unlike now, it was a subtle flirt. It happened when he and Louis were returning from where Harry found Louis, up in a meadow above the ranch hand-grazing the unicorn-like Snowball. 

The second time time Louis threaded a curl around his finger was shortly to follow. It was the day when Harry and Louis collided at the porch of the main lodge at Bar 3 early one morning with Louis carrying a bottle of honey. Apparently the honey was to prank those who had already started to harass Louis, the new boy to the program. Louis being Louis, wasn't going to be bullied. 

The way twisting a lock of hair became Louis' obsession wouldn't stop there. It happened again and again. A playful sign of Louis' infatuation. "Something about Harry's silken mane" Louis would say to Harry when he couldn't resist it. Louis weaved his fingers into Harry's hair again and again in their short time together in the US. In every passionate sexual encounter this was a compulsion Louis had to do. 

Reunited in Nicaragua, a world away from where this obsession started, Louis can't stop gripping Harry's hair. The twisting becomes uncharacteristically more frenetic with urgency like the way their kiss becomes too. 

Louis whines into their union and Harry's own building need for more suggests to him that maybe perhaps Louis' whine is not of pain but of want. Something is hungry in Louis, like a starvation. Kissing Harry is like being fed, but it's not complete. Before Harry can think reply to Louis' deepening intensity, Harry's own fervency of hunger is disrupted. There is a soft knock at the door. 

Their kiss breaks but they part only so much that their lips part while their foreheads remain pressed to each other's. Louis keeps his hands holding Harry restrained close like his by griping handfuls of hair. Harry realizes his hands are restraining Louis too, they are placed one on each arse cheek pulling Louis into him by the grip on the ample bum. Unwelcomely, disrupted from their lover's kiss they listen. Both, it can be imagined, have a hint of fear; it this Des returned? 

Someone enters the room, obvious is the lack of significant reaction from Anne. Nevertheless, Harry's feeling of euphoria wanes as his focus is taken away from the way Louis kissed him, to this person that has entered to their room. Harry sighs relief realizing the alarm at the door is only secondary. It was just Greg returning. 

Despite Harry's ease at seeing that it is Greg returned, Louis moves closer to Harry tucking in against Harry's body like a child seeking protection. Louis is taking every bit of space he can without pressing his battered chest into Harry's. Each of them has a hand on the other almost as if their kiss should have not ended, but in his heightened protectiveness Harry looks beyond Louis where he can study Greg. 

Greg is looking at them. His eyes are on Louis' back as he licks his lips. 

When Greg senses Harry's stare he returns his examination to Harry. The expression is hard to read. He glances between Harry's eyes and and Louis's back, then he looks completely away. Glancing to them again, Greg more quickly looks away feeling Harry's continued assessment. Next he looks at Anne, then back to steal a glance at the lovers, looking away again Greg finally looks down like a man defeated. He finds focuse. To Anne he speaks. It's like he's made a decision. 

"Your husband won't be detained long. Perhaps you should deal with him? It seems that what I can do here, is likely to be short-lived, given that, well, you know."

Following Greg's implication Gemma makes an scoffing sound. 

The bizarre twist of events must have made Gemma completely done with any pretenses or social constraints. Her father's unbridled rage perhaps was one thing. Adding to that was the entire deception she was made to be a part of by him, and notably, the near loss of her brother's life. Whatever the breaking point was, one could be certain that there was a long list of a too much for Gemma to process. And Gemma, clearly, was past the point of giving any amount of fucks for those not deserving of compassion. 

Scathingly she addresses Greg. 

"You mean it won't be long before your reign here, of whatever it's been, will be over because, yep, you tossed out of this hotel the man who came here to see about the company's need to fire you. AND this is after you had sex with his son and, not sure it's clear completely yet, but you've got something going on with this Louis, my brother's would-be boyfriend, and an employee here. Okay right. Short-lived you say? But while we're waiting for the doc to come back, please," Gemma says exasperated and slumping to a chair, "please, entertain us. Would you? What is your thing with Louis? I'm sure we are all very curious."

Whatever the reason, Gemma frankness, the obvious, impending end to his career, the guilt he felt over his mistakes, what ever the reason, for Greg the telling of "his thing" with Louis flows with ease. It's like he needs to stand before them all and confess his failings. It's that, maybe, or set himself on fire because each moment anyone is the room with Harry and Louis the lover's need to be one is bearing on those around them. 

Greg begins. 

It started as Greg recounts for them that he and Louis were casual "friends", just friends. Louis had moved to London after some time at a "program in the US". Unable to find a good job, Louis was limited to a barista position at a popular coffee shop near Greg's work. From the very beginning Greg knew it was fruitless to pursue any attraction he had for Louis, "well that was because everybody loved Louis". 

Aside from the huge field of competition for Louis, it was also that Louis was entirely honest about his status. Gay, yes. Available not at all; not even for a casual hookup. He was completely "in love with his Curly". If a group of them from the neighborhood did manage to get Louis to join them out for drinks, Louis would only ignore their flirtations and talk endlessly about Harry, who he referred to as Curly. How Louis could go on, Greg emphasized. It was a massive cock block to hear Louis describe every detail of his perfect lover. Even Curly's flaws Louis adored. "Curly talks a lot of shit," Louis said, by example, "and it's so unlike anything anyone else would ever say...." 

Curly, according to Louis, was the most beautiful person, both inside and out, ever. His eyes, his hair, his lips, his dimples, his long legs, his tiny bum...

Louis was primed for the homecoming of this lover in December when something unexpected happened. Ironically, it was the same day Greg was hired to manage the San Juan del Sur luxury hotel. 

On that fateful day, Louis got his rejection. Perfect-Harry returned all Louis' love letters. 

By the time Louis came over Greg's flat to cry on Greg's shoulder about this shock, it was a very, very drunk Louis who came to the door. Greg convinced drunk-Louis to get away from London for a few days. Leave the grey, damp, depressing weather for a long weekend to get his head straight about how to reconcile the news. 

By Greg's account it was all too easy a deception. Louis was so inebriated and devasted that he didn't pause to think. He was so drunk that he could barely stand. Louis agreed. Anyone who saw them traveling along their route clearly got an image of them as lovers because for the first time Louis allowed Greg to touch him. Louis was in Greg's arms; hanging off Greg. It looked intimate, but Louis had to hold onto something. Anything. He was weak with devastation. Gutted by rejection. 

Greg took Louis' phone in the distraction of going through Customs and dropped it in a bin. They got to San Juan del Sur and Greg locked Louis' passport in the hotel safe. Over the hours to follow Greg hopefully began his seduction. He was sure Louis would cave, give up on this lover back home who jilted him. 

However, it was Louis who jilted Greg. 

As Louis sobered up he made it abundantly clear. When he returned home to England Louis was going to go to Harry's house to confront Harry face to face. He believed, so he told Greg, that Harry acually loved him but approaching the reality of exposing his feelings, risking being together as a gay couple, Louis guessed, Harry panicked. "He's so young." Louis said in tears. Louis went on to say that he believed Harry was mostly afraid of giving his heart. Afraid of trust because he'd been betrayed at a tender age. 

"Louis said" Greg told the Styles sending chills through them with the emotion, "that his body felt feverish with need to confront this lover who jilted him." Louis had to see the change of heart in Harry's eyes with his own or the fever would never break its hold and Louis would never believe it. 

The telling of this caused them all to shiver. The emotion. Greg took a deep pausing breath and continued on. If Louis had returned he would have found Harry.

Louis never got to return to the UK to confront Harry for the rejection. 

Resentful of this chosen one, Greg said he thought that he only needed to buy himself a little more time. Louis might come around, Greg hoped. Greg took a large sum of money from the hotel and made it disappear. Then he made it look like Louis used him like some cyber-hacker-cam boy magician and tricking Greg in a lover's seduction. Simply, Greg posed the idea that Louis used his sexuality to steal clues to passwords to do the breech. 

In a new place where neither of them were known Greg created a fiction that could be believable. He suggested that Louis had traveled with him for this purpose, to use his seductive powers to trick Greg. Seeing how pretty Louis was, something about his brand of confidence and his unique way of being adorable even when doing something as mundane as eating a sandwich, made the hotel staff question Louis' motivations for being with Greg. They easily fell for the lie, believing their manager who had come on with a high reputation of professional credentials and whose success their jobs were tied to. The staff knew they couldn't start off opening the new hotel where their jobs hung in the balance with a massive blemish straight off. They agreed to work with Greg, keeping Louis' theft hush hush and agreeing to a punishment of Louis repaying his debt through endentured service. 

For the first several weeks after the scam Louis worked bartending. He soon moved into surf instruction where it was easier to track and intercept his tips, and always, all his earnings were garnished. Those who made Louis' service to the hotel easy according to Greg's orders, got promotions and bonuses. Those who didn't follow Greg's wishes were demoted or not long employed.

Greg's confession of his deception to the Styles paused when the doctor arrived. 

Like most around town the doctor already knew Louis. Louis stood out in the community. Pretty, from another country, bright-eyed, witty, playful. Louis was well-liked. Having a reputation as being Greg's lover added to the appeal among men inclined to liking pretty boys, so unknowingly, the lies Greg promoted about Louis, made greater the daily challenges for Louis because it implied "moral flexibility", the notion that "Louis was for sale". Making it worse everyone knew Greg and Louis were estranged. Rumors spread about how Louis owed Greg money. Men assumed Louis would do things for them if they had the money. Rejected, many of the men looking for sexual favors became physical. 

Thus the doctor had seen Louis for care a few times before. On number of occasions Louis had been battered, always a result of rejecting advances of men stronger and bigger who tried to force some unwelcome sex. It was always it a bartender named Seeki who would bring a bruised Louis to see him. Routinely Louis protested the care; he had no way to pay. Louis feared the doctor would involve Greg for the debt. The doctor never charged Louis or informed Greg of the care. 

In the aftermath of Des' assault the doctor observed Louis probably had sustained severe, but only bruising on his neck, and bicep. The impact into a solid bureau likely fractured a couple of ribs. They would have to heal but with no specific treatment, only rest and time. He gave Louis a mild seditive, just to get him off to sleep. 

As everyone in the room quieted to ease this transition and the doctor moved to assessing Harry, happy that Harry's discomfort was a minor annoyance caused by reactive movements but not a disruption of Harry's healing progress, he made Harry take notice. The doctor kept making glances to Harry's face, like he was looking at Harry for the first time.

"What?" Harry asked feeling the scrutiny. Returning the physician' stare.

After a throat clearing and a concentrating glance to the task at hand, certifying the wrap on Harry's ankle and foot was secure, the doctor looked back to Harry. "Oh it's nothing."

"What?" Harry asked again. This time his question more his father's tone of demand than his own innate kind manner. "Why are you studying me like that?" Harry restated.

"Because, well, you are absolutely a picture of what he described. You see when Louis came to me, his friend Seeki bringing him, he talked. He wouldn't talk about who might have been responsible for his abuse, or anything like that. He always went on about something to distract himself with. He talked about this Curly. This Cerub-faced angel. The one he loved. Silky curls, dimples, green eyes. Just like you are. Now I see it. There's something about you, he would say."

The doctor left the subject there. After he finishes with Harry he is seen out by Greg. He asks for no money. Even Anne's offer is refused. "They are in love. They found each other in this big, big world." he says with a laugh like the idea of love brings him something more than money. The doctor leaves. 

Harry too had been given a sedative. His, more mild than Louis', so Harry is floating in a state of not quite slumber. Conscious, but barely. Off across the room he hears his mum and his sister whispering as he drifts.

His mind gets stuck on some thoughts. Louis has such free-will. Fearlessness. No one here could buy him or break him. Harry feels for Louis who is knocked flat out limp, sleeping soundly on the bed beside him. It is then Harry could revisit something he learned about Louis in the States, the night they went into the storm, all determined to save Niall. 

Back then fearless, full-of-life Louis had been rendered so nearly lifeless by the accident on the slippery mountain slope. That was when Harry realized he could never fill this void that loosing Louis would create.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aside from random suggestions (requests by you!) I might flush out before concluding we only have otp consummating their needs on a metaphysical level (and some confessions between them) and a sweet reunion with the ot5friends . 
> 
> I've also planned an fluffy epilogue back in the mountains of the Rocky Mountain west. Sort of my tribute to everlasting love, fate, hopefulness...the idea that we can live in a world better than what we inherit. We have to believe in it.
> 
> ~Palosquared.


	60. Captive in Louis' eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***  
> Smut to be continued 
> 
> ***

Harry's eyes open coerced by a Louis-infused sensation permeating his waning sleep. Lying on his back with his legs sprawled out and all the bed covers tossed aside, Harry immediately looks to where he feels a little warmth. It's a vision of perfection Harry spies. The rush makes Harry's breath catch in a pause. 

Louis is hovering, chest is aligned over Harry's thighs. He is teasing Harry awake by softly kissing Harry's skin where thigh and pelvis intersect. 

Louis' hair is sticking every-which-way like he too just woke from a deep, long slumber which resulted in the world's most massive case of bed-head. Adding to his pixie-pan-like look is how his golden-tan face is showing a hint of rouge color suggesting the warmth Harry feels is being radiated off a seductively warm Louis. Harry discovers all this as Louis continues unwavering seduction of Harry's body with more teasing kisses. One delicate hand is holding Harry's dick and the other is caressing skin, working in concert with his lips and tongue creating the tickling sensation on skin that woke Harry. 

Their eyes meet though Harry's lover remains crouched over Harry like he is deliberately dubious about risking breaking away from his task to come closer to Harry's mouth for a kiss. Seeing Louis' glimmering skin, his mischievous, happy expression sends a new wave of shivers rippling over Harry because in that instant while their eyes are looking into each others Louis parts his pink lips and wets them with a deliberate, seductive lick while still offering no words. 

"Oh right", Harry realizes. "This is Louis. Sassy, attitude. It is game on!" There were too many times back at Bar 3 that Louis made no apologies about taking things from zero to full-on. Harry found himself on every occasion giving in, despite his self proclaimed title as The Predator, because with Louis, Harry had no power. 

Louis smirks after his lip-wetting, raises his eyebrows mischieviously at Harry, before he proceeds having Harry's full attention on his mouth. He makes a singular, small kitten lick on the tip of Harry's cock before returning to kissing the skin of Harry's pelvis. Harry watches speechlessly, breath held. Louis moves across Harry's milky skin such that his mouth passes so close to Harry's cock that the exhale of hot breath makes Harry gasp and arch his back pressing his head down into the bed under him. It's almost as if Harry is trying to get away because he's immediately sensitized. 

Gripping Harry's dick more tightly, Louis forces Harry to stop the inverted backbend. Harry is forced to look to Louis again. Seeing Harry's eyes widen with an expression, a wishful plea, Louis coyly doesn't acknowledge what is a rapidly growing anticipation for more created by a single lick proceeding by the parting of pretty pink lips. Instead Louis lets Harry languish, desire building, while allowing Harry only the simple pleasure of being held in hand and the suffering of waiting while Louis sucks a bruise into the divot nearby. Louis' only give to driving Harry into palpable want is that he follows this torment with a lick to sooth the red mark he branded Harry with.

Harry whispers "Louis" as he makes a quick glance around the hotel room to be certain they are alone. This whisper made Louis return to look at Harry. It hits Harry like a flash of blue as Louis' smiling eyes suggest his status of pleased with himself. In his hand Harry's dick is now fully erect. The both can feel the hardness. 

"It's okay, we're alone." Louis says with a quietness that is a tiny bit shy. 

He playfully peeks at what he holds in his hand. "I can do this," he says. 

Harry didn't hear the pause. The hesitation. 

Harry misses this hesitation, because after all, it is a question not really a pause. 

After the ask, with the tiniest of second touch from only the tip of Louis' tongue, almost more gentle than a breath, which is another sign of Louis' questioning, Harry's body can't resist. He reacts ahead of his words with a sudden need to thrust his pelvis up. 

Trying not to focus on his immediate pleasure Harry speaks again more quietly than necessary as he puts his hands onto Louis' head framing Louis' face. He means to keep Louis from going on to take more of his length, gently, as he issues his concern, "but your, your, doesn't that hurt, like that?" 

Out of concern Harry pulls Louis away from his cock. 

Harry questions the lover whose touch he wants because Louis is propped up with his elbows like he can't lay chest down. Additionally Harry almost involuntarily forced his body into Louis'. The last thing Harry remembered thinking about before the sedatives they both were given took ahold was what the doctor had said about Louis; the doctor needed to give Louis a sedative for pain. It was the only option. Revisiting that diagnoses as he keeps Louis at bay makes Harry's heart skip, like it jumped into his throat. He couldn't allow Louis to be hurt. But then Harry also remembered what his mum his sister said because they had made Harry feel at ease. Harry's anxiety dissipated when they had reassured him; "Louis will be fine...some bruising...maybe some slight fractures here on these two ribs...but fine...can't really cast them...let Louis get some good sleep..."

Sleep. Harry too had fallen into it with ease. Was it because of the stress of his father's brutality? Was it his lingering need for more recovery from his accident? Maybe it was that he too was given a mild sedative by the doctor, but when Harry woke after several hours to this reality he finds it to be much like a fantasy. He woke to soft lips kissing his pelvis, lingering with a warm breath on where pelvis meets thigh. A delicate hand holding his dick. Harry pushed aside concerns when it struck him that they were actually, truly alone again, and he is desperate for this. 

But reality had elements that were more powerful than his desires and fantasy. Harry nearly inadvertently roughed Louis up in his largely involuntary response to Louis' tease. So their eyes meet again in a gaze that is held. Harry is fearing for Louis' fragility. Before he confides this Louis changes which hand he's holding Harry's erection with and begins slowly pumping Harry's cock anew. 

The action speaks words. Makes a request. 

Green and blue search each other. They see in the other many thoughts, questions, maybe even some fear. 

Harry realizes that Louis' hand is moist. And something in Louis' eyes is different than they were just moments ago. Their color is more radiant midnight blue. Hopeful and aroused is the emotion they convey. And the wanting in them is like Harry's own. Two sets of eyes darkening from blown pupils, Harry knew, from their past lovemaking that this is a sign that Louis is filled with need. 

"Wha...what did you say?" Louis asks like he registered with much delay the meaning of Harry's words. 

Louis ask, his expression is continuing to be one of tenuous wistfulness although there is an uncharacteristic hint of shyness, like he's more hesitant and calculating of Harry. Does it seem Harry's thrust was a shoving away? An attempt to push him off? 

"You are hurt," Harry blurts in explanation with his hands leaving Louis' face abruptly. Then Harry realizes maybe that pulling also away seemed like a rejection. Maybe Louis' shyness is tethered to fear. 

Harry rushes to explain. 

One of his hands reaches to Louis again. It cautiously bushes over a visibly bruised bicep with a backwards turn to the hand so as to not press on a sore, just brush of skin over skin offered feather soft. 

Harry's other hand goes to Louis' chest where fingertips almost touch the skin but in the the last second his fingertips stop and hover there like he wants to touch but dares not to. There is not much of a visible bruise on Louis chest, perhaps because unlike Louis' arm, there is not significant muscle to show the bruising, but Harry clearly recalled both the sound of Louis' impact when Des threw him and the words of the physician who followed up. Perhaps there were fractures or a break, perhaps only of a few, but still. 

Louis says with a hint of pleading hopefulness in a soft voice, "M'fine, maybe tiny bit sore, tired-ish, but fine." Then he pulls himself up so he's sitting legs folded and he's now seated upright over Harry's thighs. This is about where he was when the room exploded with Des' interuption. It's odd to Harry that only now does he see things more clearly, seeing it a second time with Louis sitting like this; the Louis before Des and the Louis after Des. 

Even though Louis repositioned he still holds tight onto Harry's dick. Harry can see a spilt second of brow-furrowing foreshadowing Louis' words which bore some more pronounced hint of doubt. Harry is prepared. The normal-Louis he knows would have pushed ahead already, never delaying when in need of a good dicking. 

"You weren't the one who returned me letters. It was never you." Louis says while he plays with Harry's erection a little mindlessly as he speaks. "I should have known that as I soon as I got them. I should have known there was some other explanation..." 

"But then there was some chance that you maybe since you didn't have an explanation from me before I left and that maybe you were still mad at me. Most of the letters were not even opened so I freaked. The more and more I thought about it, I realized how unfair I was to you. You were stuck back in the US spending months not knowing why I was at Bar 3, only that I was hiding something. The more I thought about it, it made more and more sense. Maybe you felt too hurt by that and your resentment grew. Besides, a hasty note didn't really give you the answers you deserved, just promises. Finally all I could think of was our last hours there together riding back with the cattle. Things had turned bad, you were already so mad at me. You threw away the crown I made you. You snapped at me in front of everyone." 

As Louis was talking, still unconsciously playing with Harry's dick, Harry realizes for the first time just how frail and vulnerable Louis looks. How had Harry missed this earlier when he woke to Louis with him here, in paradise? 

Harry couldn't be sure. Maybe because it was like an infinate impossibility. Despite their discovery through Des' confession, of a story about how both were deceived, their improbable love manipulated against them, Harry guesses that part of Louis' vulnerability is not tied to Des' outrage alone. 

It's also because of everything that Louis endured since the last time they were together. 

Louis looks physcially very changed compared to when they shared their brief romance together in the States. Obviously, he is very tan from the life-style he found himself living, but he is also very thin. Too, too thin. His cheekbones, like sculptures of the gods are even more pronounced. His collarbones, similarly divine are the same as his facial structure; more defined almost too much so. Curiously, Louis also has no tan lines which made Harry have a split second of curiousness about that. The only place his body wasn't tan as he sat bare before Harry was where his body has bruises left by Des. Probably that was because the bruises masked the golden skin. 

Those bruises had quickly turned purple. How had Harry not seen these signs of a deeper fragility? 

And within the story told by Louis' eyes, there was much more in them than Harry had first realized upon waking to find Louis with him. So now Harry studied them with a new perspective. The combination of very tanned skin and the sun kissed hue of his hair made his eyes more surreal like tropical blue waters, but they had a hint of a weariness like some pain was residing deep within. 

Harry seizes Louis in a gentle clasp and rolls their bodies such that Louis is softly guided to be put onto his back on the bed. Positions switched, Harry comes over Louis on his knees so he can look down at his subject of study. 

Now that Harry is not mostly thinking of sex he can see the hidden emotional fatigue. He notes the way Louis' arms went, without resistance, to the bed as Harry took him down. Harry notes how Louis allowed himself to be both placed and laid open, exposed. Harry dominantly hangs over Louis, his body between his legs, and to this Louis is yielding with his body splayed and defenseless like there is something vacant within him, like he has no fight. No self-value. 

Playful, sassy mischievous Louis that had gallantly started this had receded. In his place a small, fragile, shyly hopeful one looks up at Harry. 

Harry focuses more on the tiny details. When they woke together in this room earlier, how was it that Harry's didn't notice that Louis looks different; so thin, so vulnerable and so tan. This made Louis an ideal personification of the "perfect twink". 

He is tiny. Louis could be easily man-handled like a rag doll, as Des did. Or instead of flung he could be used for every sin. Magnifying that image is Harry's memory of the doctor's account of how Louis' had been in a constant battle; every detail of Louis appears to be so designed for taking. His tiny chest, small waste, curves to the hips, shapely arms, luscious thighs, golden skin. And a pretty cock. 

As Harry's assessment lingers for so long without words to Louis it makes him grow more self-conscious. Louis moves one hand to take his own qdick. He is tugging on himself shyly optimistic, bourgeoning hardening all the while his eyes stay on Harry's roaming analysis. Louis follows how Harry is taking in everything about his body. 

Looking deeper still there are more small details for Harry to discover. 

For the first time Harry identifies the eye bags. Fatigue had been missed initially by Harry. Despite the medicated sleep, or maybe because it, Louis is tired. It is in his eyes. Perhaps Harry didn't notice this at first because inhanced by the miraculous chance of finding each other here the blue of them sparkled like the local tropical waters. Or maybe the intensity of need for Louis reflected back like a reflection of the intensity of stars. Intensity was grasped in a hand and pulled down from the sky, captive in Louis' eyes that showed the yearn for Harry, and yet. Yet, behind them is deep, crushing fatigue. Need of validation from Harry's heart. 

Harry stops looking at Louis through a lense of so many questions. Louis breaks the silence when Harry's scrutiny fades. 

With a faint attempt at humor Louis asks, "M'not so sure, but I don't think your da likes me? You?" 

Harry's finds himself laughing. It is utterly ridiculous what Louis said. How can anyone give a fuck what Des thinks. The way Harry's laugh blurts out makes Louis' smile in a beautiful, eye-crinkling concert with Harry's laughter. 

"We'll do you?" Louis asks and they both laugh. As the laugher subsides Harry notes the way Louis turns to looking at parts of Harry while avoiding seeking what is expressed in Harry's eyes as Harry speaks. 

"I can wait forever to hear why you were at Bar 3. Back then, no, no, I couldn't. I gues I was too impatient and too self absorbed. Never before had someone affected me like you. Not since my first love, so I was, um afraid, spoilt. But I had no way of knowing what we were to you. You left, no explanation. I assumed the worst." 

"I left you a note. Unless..." Louis offers. 

"Unless what? What note?" 

Speaking to himself as much as in reply to Harry, an idea occurs to Louis he'd not had before. "Michael, I gave it to Michael because I wasn't allowed to..." 

The notion of how much betrayal they faced strikes Louis. 

"...and that lieing twat never gave it to you, did he?" 

*** 

About an hour after Harry and Louis reconcile that Michael, like Des, was betraying their pairing Harry has made Louis cum without yet having Louis like Harry desperately wanted, riding cock, as Louis was about to do when Des disrupted them from their nirvana hours ago. The first time Harry would make Louis cum was after they had exhausted themselves with the details of that betrayal by Michael and Harry pulled Louis into a position where he could eat Louis out while Louis was still comfortably laying on his back. 

Having Louis' legs resting on his shoulders Harry liked watching Louis' face. Harry had Louis curved in a c-shape bend. Holding onto Louis' legs, keeping them secure on his shoulders, Harry used only his mouth working Louis' body into a orgasmic frenzy without any aid of his hands. Louis' thighs were trembling from the start of Harry's efforts, even before Harry was able to transition from licking Louis' hole to inserting his tongue deep as Louis' tight walls allowed. When Louis began moaning loudly and cumming all over himself those beautiful thighs of his shook such that Harry felt compelled to set them down and press onto them to keep Louis from exploding so violently with the intensity of his pleasure as to hurt himself. 

Once the wave that rushed over Louis' body Harry returned to Louis' spectacular pink hole. Harry wanted to see it before it was properly and completely used. His tongue had done nothing to fuck it open; teasing alone had only quickly unravelled Louis. Given Harry's generous size, he restrained his desire to plow his cock into a pristine Louis and fuck him until Louis is gaping open, filled then dripping with seed. This restraint Harry manages even though as soon as Louis finished coming he's begging for exactly that from Harry, say nothing of the impact on Harry's want from Louis' pleads for cock when Harry initiated eating Louis out. 

No, Harry thought, he wouldn't have Louis that self-serving way. How had Louis managed so long to keep himself saved just for Harry when Harry fell into things so easily like distrust of Louis, believing the lies about him, and like, oh god, like allowing himself to havie sex with the very man who virtually kept Louis captive from him? 

Harry needed to prove himself as worthy of Louis. Not the other way. 

Finding a way to protectively prop Louis on pillows, Harry tells Louis he's going to pound into Louis and come but o n l y after he feels Louis' body go first. Then, and only then will Harry cum in Louis and fuck him more until he has fucked every drop of his own cum out of Louis. He'll finish that by eating Louis out again enjoying seeing how Louis' hole will be gaping, too tired for winking. But first... 

Louis is position gingerly so his chest is not weight bearing but his perfect bum is exposed so Harry can work Louis open using his fingers. It makes Harry's dick start leaking when he sees the pretty, pink hole is sensitive to the finest touch. Harry licks around the rim then uses his saliva to play with Louis and enjoy the way Louis is writhing, begging again for Harry "to just put the monstrosity of a dick in me!" 

Harry uses simple ass-slaps and nipping teeth to force Louis to cease demands. 

He gets one finger worked into and Louis begins hissing with a fit for more, faster, harder, deeper, "just give it to me, I wannnnna summcock!" 

There's more slapping and biting from Harry to silence the demands from a petulant Louis. 

It's absurd how well Louis begins to coo once Harry has enough fingers in him to control Louis. Once Harry begins to tease Louis' spot, Louis moans, gasps and pants. Harry knows he's going to have Louis cumming before Louis could catch his breath after a series of clever finger stimulations. It takes Harrry using the one hand to grab Louis ' wrists and pin Louis still again before Harry triggers another series of ribbons from Louis cock ejaculaitng with toe curling pleasure because, like the first orgasm, this one hits Louis with such intensity that Harry fears for Louis' injuries. 

Harry’s made Louis come twice. Once with no hands just Harry's mouth. Again he makes Louis cum with his fingers. He pulls Louis to him after the second time for some recovery and they lay together with Louis sweaty, half-spent and, to Harry more beautiful than he has ever been before. Louis is immediately mumbling to Harry. 

"You promise you are going to cum in me and fuck your load out of me, keep pounding me until I come again, promise." 

Tucked into Harry's side, Louis is using a few fingers, to naturally, play with Harry's long curls. 

Harry kisses Louis on the forehead and promises to Louis. He expects Louis is too tired, will accept this and simply fall back to sleep.

Instead Louis starts babbling more. It's very non-sensical. Like the kind of thing someone does when their exhausted, delirious, high, drip or maybe just flat out gone. And then it slowly refines. It becomes meaningful. Sentient. 

"...so when I saw the way you were looking at me it was strange. I could feel your thoughts." 

"It hasn't been like that while I was here. Couldn't feel your thoughts even though I was dreaming about you even while awake, wanting you so much that I could talk of no other, believing that when I got home I could find you and make us come together. I just didn't know how I could get to you. Not unless I did what I couldn't. Sell myself." 

"So one of the things you thought just a little bit ago, or maybe, don't know, you said it even... But you wondered why I have no tan lines. That's because me favorite thing to do is to take my breaks between lessons and go out in the water and just lay on me board and day dream about you. I take off clothes to think about what I'd do if I were a bird. Maybe it would happen. Impossible but I know what I would do. That would be easy..." 

"If I could fly, I'd be coming right back home to you." 

"So I'd lay there. I'd take everything off. I'd lie there on the surf board pretending it was that rock up at the lake where Will took us camping. I'd pretend like you were watching me from shore. And I dream."


	61. Pearly white beads on honeyed skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut continuation.

Louis lying naked on a surf board? Harry thinks about this. 

It peaks his interest even though he wants to be patient and avoid enticingly overt and arousing images of Louis because he's toting a unserved erection which is an annoyance. "You'd just hang out there away from shore, laying there naked on a surf board?"

"Yes."

Curiosity at how peculiar Louis' behavior is pushes Harry to ask more. "And do what?

Louis makes a disgusted, yet playful, scoff. "Nothing like that! There were waves Harry. Not like it's a convenient place to have a wank. I just thought of you..."

It didn't take much of Louis' continuation to fully drive Harry into a state of painfully hard. The ramblings about the daydreams on a surf bored are a mix of arousing and painful sentiments of Louis' deep longing for Harry.

Suddenly, Harry finds himself having to act.

It was not that many minutes ago that Harry made Louis cum twice. Once using only his mouth and once on his fingers. All the while Harry's own cock was untouched so he is.... 

...determined. 

Rolling their bodies so he is between Louis' thighs, Harry pins Louis there as he kisses Louis. Harry holds Louis' wrists together and pushes them up over Louis' head. Memories of hundreds of times when the words he's denied he needed to say, like their during their sex-filled weekend in the mountains, are swimming in Harry's head. He never said the three worlds months ago when he had ample chance and should have. Then it was abruptly, simply too late. Louis was gone. 

Here in Nicaragua, far away from home or the mountains where they met, Harry is given yet another chance. Improbability was directed by fate, Harry has one last opportunity to confess his love. 

Harry places his kisses, soft on Louis' lips, following with deeply penetrating tongue driving into Louis' mouth, nibbles on Louis' jaw, neck and ears and yet still does nothing more, to communicate his love. The sounds Louis makes when they briefly part make Harry caution, maybe Louis has come all over himself again. His noise is like that.

Harry inspects Louis in their brief parting and while Louis is, indeed flushed and breathless, his body trembling alittle, his wriggling is with need and wanting of more from Harry. There is, in fact, no cum, just perspiration, so Harry returns to kissing Louis. He does this deliberately slow. He kisses those lips, tongue takes its needs in that mouth. Slowly feeling Louis writhe less, yield to Harry's pace, Harry's hands release Louis' wrists and Harry uses them to position himself. 

Again, he does this s l o w l y. Meaningfully. 

Harry holds his cock against Louis' hole. He watches Louis moan loudly as the head of hid dick pushes against the barrier, pressing on wall of muscles with out penetrating past them. He fears Louis could come all over himself a third time from how sensitive Louis is to the pressure of his head on the opening. 

Harry wants to take some time. Bouncing the head of his cock against the barrier again and again without pushing through Harry begins to think his girth is too much, feeling like Louis is smalller, more frail, tighter than he remembered. Or maybe Harry, two years younger, still growing, is bigger too. 

With his concern, Harry pulls away and lifts Louis' ass, spreads his cheeks and looks at it one more time. Louis is pretty, pink, and with a puff of air blown from Harry's lips his tiny hole is winking for it. 

"Pleeeaaasssse!" Louis gasps. 

Harry positions their bodies again with his dick teasingly bumping on Louis' rim. Louis is staring up at Harry so full of hope, so desperate, so adorably needy. 

Decisively, Harry plows into Louis nice and slow. 

Harry knows from their past experiences that Louis can take a fucking insanely well. This is good because Harry fully-erect is kind of intimidating. Not Liam-impressive, but impressive, nonetheless. Harry thinks to caution Louis like its their first time, because despite their past, this feels to Harry like a first time. Louis seems wanting to squirm and yet incapable like as each additional inch of Harry empails deeper into him, maybe Louis is becoming over-matched. But Louis doesn't tell Harry to stop. He reaches for his own cock which is a little bit beyond soft and strokes it nice and slow while staring at Harry's face in studying of Harry's fulfillment. 

"Louis, you can tell me to stop." 

Louis only shakes his head "no" and the way he seems incapable of speech makes Harry fear more for Louis' comfort as he is sliding himself into his lover. 

Tears start streaming down Louis' cheeks. He coughs up a "No! Please! Da, doe, don't stop, please!" 

Harry feels himself bottom out and Louis is a wreck, tears flowing, his breath curiously paced. This definitely feels like having a virgin bottom. 

Harry holds himself motionless bottomed there. 

"Please Curly, fuck me open and gaping, don't stop until every drop of cum fills me and you've fucked very drop of it out of me, please!" 

The words took all Louis' breath and without more than one full penetration to bottom Harry has Louis like this. Maybe it was too soon after making Louis cum with his mouth and his fingers, because Louis is panting, crying, begging all the while looking completely wrecked, trembling a bit more. 

Harry pulls away from bottom slightly fearing for how sensitive Louis is. Is this emotional, is this physical? The base of Harry's shaft feels like it is so tightly gripped by Louis' body it is as if he's wearing a cock ring. Harry couldn't come in Louis if he had to because Louis is so tight, but he coos to Louis and speaks sofly with reassurances. 

"It's okay baby, I'm gonna take care of you. It's gonna take some time to loosen your pretty hole. Give me time to fuck you open. Get hard for me, baby, cum for me again on my dick and I'll lick around your sweet hole and lick out every drop of seed I fill you with, okay?" 

Louis shakes his head a rapid "yes" and tugs on his still soft cock with a look of appeasement crossing his brow. Louis has a very expressive face. His brow, in particular is pixie-perfection at conveying his thoughts and emotions. Harry sees the Louis he wants expressed so he feels safe that he can move again. He pushes back in slightly then pulls back away beginning to make long, slow strokes fucking Louis gently and completely. Each penetration Harry pushes gently at bottom and holds there a moment. 

Sure enough Harry sees the slight stiffening of Louis' dick forming in time as he continues his fluid, gentle pace. 

It's not long before Louis is releasing the hold on his dick and putting his arms up over his head. One arm is covering his face and his body is slack, rhythmically moving with Harry's penetrations. 

Harry can only expect he's isn't hearing Louis' mews and moans, because suddenly Harry's own pleasure is consuming him. And they both are loud. 

Harry continues fucking Louis cautiously like this for uncountable minutes until Louis finds it in himself to float one hand up to find Harry's face. Following graceful contact with Harry's face, a brush of refined fingers sweeping over Harry's lips, the fingers continue their journey. They go into Harry's silky curls where they grip assertively and Louis makes a concerted effort to speak. 

"Fuck me hard, Harry, h a r d e r!" 

The hand drops back down and Louis resumes covering his face slightly with his arms submissively laying open and otherwise exposed. Harry looks at Louis' pretty cock and he sees that his work has yielded beautiful results. Louis is hard. 

Harry changes his inward strokes to plowing deep and much harder. He thrust faster and each bottom termination sends Louis' cock slapping against his belly. 

Harry thinks he's been fucking Louis for at least 20'. He wants badly, so badly, to cum in Louis, like he said, so he can lap up his seed and spy how gapping and wasted he's made his lover. Harry just can't. He feels that Louis is still just too tight on him. It feels amazing. Never could the gods design a better body for sex than one like this. 

Then he feels it. Louis' rim is spasming and a couple tiny drops of cum are slapped off Louis' slit by the force of the next few trusts Harry makes sending his lover's cock smacking against his skin. It's only a couple drops. That is all Louis has to give. The sight of pearly white beads on Louis' deeply honeyed skin is such a powerful trigger to Harry that he pulls out immediately from Louis and dumps his load on Louis' skin too and discovering that as he does that his own ejaculate is copious in comparison.

"I love you Loouis Tomlinson. I love you."


	62. Inconceivable

There had been an emergency call for the fire station at midnight and by 6AM Liam was going on over twenty-four hours without sleep. Completely spent and grungy from fighting the fire along side his team, Liam left the station after the scheduled crew switch without troubling to shower first. Liam was hoping to bathe at home and fall into a comfortable, fully occupied bed. 

As he hoped it was clearly too early for Zayn and Niall to be awake. Liam tiptoed through their flat heading to the bath. Liam thought he would enjoy cuddling with them before himself having hours of badly needed sleep. Maybe he could convince them to lie in bed for a long slumber with him. Liam realizes he's grown accustomed to this thing they have, a threesome. Even in sleep it feels more natural that there are three sets of limbs. Three heart beating as one. So Liam quietly tries to not wake them. 

Both would have had a busy weekend while he was working his shift. He fantasies they need this rest time too. Niall had some unplanned extra hours of work come his way in the arena of music production. Seems that his reputation was growing in the industry even though Niall was still years away from completing his degree in sound engineering.

Similarly, Zayn was rising in popularity in the art-circles. Lately it seemed he'd been on every artists' guest list when they had their own openings because Zayn always created a buzz in his wake. Liam and Niall couldn't help but joke of how this was as much because of Zayn's striking beauty as it was the power of the messages he conveyed with his art work and the influence he was garnering with his unique style. 

As Liam undresses and prepars to shower the sound-alert on his phone makes his heart skip a beat.

Harry?

Liam reaches his phone just as the incoming call went to voice mail. He tries to intercept it, but in his exhausted state and surprise at the caller-specific tone that sounded he accidentally terminates the caller in haste by trying to answer the call. 

Staring at his phone in exasperation at his clumsiness a slurry of curse words slips out loudly from Liam's lips. 

Following Louis' disappearance, Harry went on a family trip that terminated his accessibility by phone. With that Liam decided to enter a Harry-specific ring tone on his phone, just in case and so he'd never miss that call. Liam wasn't ready to loose another friend; not going to tolerate another disappearance going on endlessly and unexplained All three of them did this after the discovery of Louis' letters. The inability to reach Harry on top of the mystery with Louis made the threesome decide they had to be vigilant if Harry was to call them. 

No sooner did the cancelling of the incoming call from Harry's number have time to process than the Harry-specific ring tone that Niall set up on his phone sounded. Liam ran to grab Niall's phone and made sure to answer correctly this time. 

Whether it was the shouting of curses when he accidentally cult off the call to his phone or the fact that Niall's phone was right beside their bed, as Niall did whenever Liam was at his dangerous job, the two sleeping lads are roused as Liam answers Niall's phone.

"Harry?" Liam questions hopefully.

Niall and Zayn watch every sign of Liam's reaction as Liam is listening to the person calling. His eyes widen as he gasps. Liam runs a hand through his short, short hair in a manner one does when they are subconsciously trying to grapple with a challenging idea, something inconceivable. 

"No way!" Liam says. "Are you fucking serious?"

It was impossible to tell what the reaction from Liam meant. Something good? Some tragedy? Zayn and Niall are immediately asking for what is the story. Is that Harry? Where is he? What's going on?

Liam signals for them to wait and he says to the caller, "Wait, I'm putting this phone on speaker, repeat that so Niall and Zee can hear you."

The slow-speaking, richly deep-sounding voice of their good friend becomes audible.

"Um, hi, Harry here calling with my now finally working phone from where my father brought us, a little resort town in Nicaragua where I woke a couple days ago from almost drowning in a surfing accident to find I was saved by this angel. Might surprise you as much as it did me. You'll see for yourselves, my angel and me are flying back to London tomorrow. Me and Louis."

"Wwhat the?" Gasping in unison Zayn and Niall are as shocked as Liam was. 

Harry continues telling his friends such a story. It began with why his father brought them to this little town on the coast of Nicaragua. Next Harry describes how mad he was when he got there, angry and hurt about Louis. Next Harry confesses what a foolish thing he did in Nicaragua because of this anger and the hurt ripping open old scars. Acting like an idiot, Harry describes his failure; he decides to sleep with some attractive man he's just met. That bad decision lead to his accident he tells them. 

But then, "a miraculously thing happens", Harry tells them. 

It's wildly improbable. Harry describes his own initial disbelief of his own senses "as tricks playing in his mind conjuring a phantom". He woke from a slumber to discover that he was rescued by none other than Louis. The lover he felt abandoned by. 

"Everything's gets even more unbelievable from there," Harry says. 

The three lads were speechlessly listening until that point, at which they had to blurt out what they had discovered in London. They had possession of letters written by Louis to Harry. Love letters, pages and pages of sweet memories, wishes for the future and, being written by Louis, they included a lot of graphics discription of sex. 

Harry cut them off to say, that the fate of the letters had been revealed to him as well. 

Details poured from Harry. Details about how his father returned the letters Louis wrote within a day or two of their potential reunion to sever their relationship. How coincidentally Louis' best friend in London, harboring a crush for Louis, took adavantage of Louis when Louis was heartbroken with receiving them back unaware it was Harry's father's deception. How the that deceptive friend, of all the scum, was the same man who Harry immediately and foolishly slept with on his drunken binge as soon as he got to Latin America. 

"And the kicker? You won't believe this, " Harry's shares with them, "That man, the so-called friend, who I jumped into sex with, he's been basically keeping Louis hostage here in Nicaragua since he tricked Louis into coming to an isolated paradise with him. If fate hadn't brought us together... you won't believe what Louis has been through." 

An hour later they are all still taking. The three want to hear Louis' voice too. 

Harry confesses he is calling while Louis is sleeping because his phone just got delivered to him, "...and before that my mum brought us Louis' passport. When she came into the room with it, it was sort of overwhelming for Louis, you know? He was finally free. My mum had also called his family. She made certain Jay Tomlinson knew that her son was safe, he was coming home. She even told Louis she thinks she and his mum are going to be great friends, she could feel it in her bones." 

"After she said that Louis began crying and shaking. I had to um, calm him, yeah, calm him. It took a while so I want him to sleep some. You'll see when we get home. He looks so delicate, fragile."

This protectiveness of Harry for Louis is the most adorable thing the three have heard from him for a long, long time. 

"Calm him", they know, knowing Louis, meant potentially hours of lovemaking. 

The three committed lovers' circulate nonverbal exchanges between them, intently listening, while as Harry shares a few closing comments. "There are so many more things to explain, it's really a mess," Harry eludes to some on-going issues with his father. 

"It's a bit of an unusal family crises," he says vaguely before he changes the subject to where they are going to be staying when the get back, indicating more vaguely about a conflict with Des. 

Then suddenly Harry begins to whisper, like he's talking is too loud, or saying "Des" was like saying "he who will not be named". 

The line goes cold. It seemed obvious, Liam, Zayn and Niall realize, that Harry must have turned his attention immediately to Louis. 

Zayn Liam and Niall are left momentarily speechless. Then a text scrolls over the screen. "Shhh, must not wake my babe. No Des, shhh." 

Then the three regroup. It's a lot of news. Inconceivable. 

"He found Louis" 

"They found each other." 

"He's bringing Louis home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alittle more tidying up in this update. I could go on with endlessly with various cuddle-fest moments because I love the idea of love. Needing a place to put my wish for devotion to a partner can be something all people can/should experience. Wishing the world could be a place to hate-only-on-hate and embrace love in any consensual form between persons who choose it.
> 
> Note: story closure will include a character death. It will not be major character or vengeance but maybe best hint it is bittersweet to a bit sad-ish.
> 
> Oh, and I get to wrap up Greg and Michael.


	63. Right next to you

Harry wakes as his body detects a brightening, like the sun is harbingering a new day. Today, he and Louis are flying home together! 

Excited, Harry reads the time displayed on a bedside clock. The alarm that Harry set before falling asleep with Louis had not sounded yet. It's clear to him that he had woken so very early. Suddenly Harry realizes as he puts his hand on an empty place beside him, reacting with a startle, that Louis is already gone from their bed. Perhaps this missing piece of himself is what stirred him.

For an entire night they'd slept, arms and legs entangled. Many times they felt forced to roll apart with the heat of their bodies becoming too much but many, many more they found each other even while in sleep, weaving their bodies tightly with the other innately sharing an intense need for pressing together as one.

But where is Louis now? 

Harry immediately realizes that the bed beside him is holding some lingering heat. Harry is relived that he can dismiss the immediate fear that all of this feeling of completeness he woke to was a mirage. The warmth suugests that Louis must have only just left the bed.

Harry quickly looks around their suite glancing first at the doors. The room that Harry was brought to following his surfing accident was expansive. One of its doors is entry to the bath, another is entry to the hall so Harry gives no thought as he is compelled to turn his attenion to the French doors which open to the private balcony overlooking the beachfront ocean view. 

There are windows on both sides of the door. The windows run the length of the entire wall and each extends from floor to ceiling. A slight breeze that is lofting through an open door makes the series of sheer, white curtains move in a cloud-like fashion. Their transparency creates an illusion because standing in the middle of this, framed by these dancing clouds, is Louis. 

The light is still virgining; Harry can only see Louis as a subtly backlit silhouette. The outline of his form is perfection. 

His slight torso tapers to a tiny waist. From his waist Louis' hips make a seductive curve. In the early morning light this all is more impactful because details of Louis' body are shaded; Louis' normally stunningly golden skin tones are muted. 

Harry sits upright to drink this in. Louis has his arms extended up and he's bracing his body with hands gripping the frame of the door as an ocean breeze sweeps into the room. Clearly Louis is unaware he's being studied. Louis seems to be someplace else, simple watching the waves, the changing colors shimmering on ocean and hinting of sunrise on the horizon. 

With a bit more sunrise nearing Harry realizes Louis' naked body is looking more defined. Slight and curvy he seems so small to Harry who admittedly is still growing. Louis' bareness is stark against the misty-looking curtains. Harry can't stand to be parted from Louis any longer even by the smallest of distance between them. 

Rushing to Louis, Harry pulls a bed cover along with him. He stands behind Louis and envelopes Louis with his body and the cover. Louis immediately sighs letting his head drift back onto Harry's shoulder. 

"You okay?" Harry asks softly. 

It was going to be a long day ahead of them traveling back to England, thus it was imperative they rise early, but Louis was awake far, far too early. Harry is surprised and concerned because it had been a full night of love-making, surely enough for anyone to have good post-sex sleep. 

"It's so beautiful," Louis says. Louis makes a fleetingly brief glance over his shoulder to look at Harry with a warm smile before he returns quickly to looking back out at the ocean from their luxury view. 

The sun is just beginning to build an array of colors and light is almost breaking over the ocean. 

Looking at Louis instead of the earthly beauty Louis referrs to, Harry answers. He continues his love-struck stupid stare at his lover. 

"Yes, yes, it is so very beautiful."

Louis makes the slightest of laughs and another fleeting glance back at Harry again. He gives Harry another warm smile in return. Harry feels Louis' body relax more against his like this is ultimate contentment as Louis resumes watching the beginning of a blossoming sunrise.

"No, it is, Harry. This is. This place. It's so beautiful."

There was a hitch in Louis' voice at the end of his words. The tonal shift is followed by what Harry thinks is a little tremble from Louis. Harry moves wrap himself tighter around Louis, as tight as he can. It's rewarding to Harry that the boy melted into him stops trembling with the increased firmness of their union. 

Louis clarifies his meaning. 

"I mean that it is so beautiful here in San Juan del Sur. Truly spectacular. I've seen the coastal paradise nearly every day since I've been here but for the first time since Greg made up the lies about me and locked away my passport I can finally embrace its beauty. I'm not trapped anymore. I can leave, we are leaving, you and me Harry, together, we are going home."

Louis presses his head back more firmly where it is rest on Harry's shoulder. He restates his point while relaxing into his lover. Harry softly kisses one side of Louis' head and listens patiently. 

"This is beautiful." Louis states with conviction. "I am finally free to see that. But it's nothing for me to leave this because there's no place on this earth as beautiful as right next to you."

Harry turns Louis into him and they meet in a kiss. Louis' silky skin feels like it is still slightly chilled by the breeze from his standing there bare before Harry joined him. Under the touch of Harry's large hands, Harry is gentle as he rubs over Louis' skin while keeping them wrapped together under the blanket. This is because on this morning, when Harry approached to cover Louis, he noticed that the bruises on Louis left by Des are dark and concerning. Louis is Harry's curvy and perfection, but he is also so slight. He's not the boy of summer that Harry fell in love with when Louis stepped out of a vehicle at Bar 3 into the sun of western Montana in August so many months ago. 

No. That boy had fuller curves which his tight jeans could cut into the flesh of when the occasion of his shirt raising exposed the skin at waist line. That boy, from Harry's past sexual experience, had a tiny belly which Harry could bury his face in after sex and blow stupid noises to elicit myrth and laughter. 

In contrast, this boy Harry is wrapping in his arms has a fragility to him that Harry fears. The hell which actions by Des and Greg created took so much toll on Louis. He is still spectacular, but maybe a little too thin and too easy to shatter. They haven't talked yet about Michael, another betrayal, Harry is keeping that secret until later. Harry fears that Louis too has more of his own unshared, horror stories, about the struggles, like those the doctor eluded to. For now they both need nothing more than the love of each other. Everything else that needs to be shared between them can wait. 

And yet, suffering harassment everyday here in San Juan del Sur, Louis could still talk of the beauty of this false-paradise, this hell, as he's preparing to leave. 

Harry pauses his kiss to think and Louis drifts in his thoughts too, turning back to look out over the ocean again. He continues on with his point. 

"This was my prison Harry." 

"I saw every sunset. Every sunrise." 

"With them I dreamed of you." 

"I remembered the way the sky was so beautiful at the ranch, the beauty at the lake that Will took us to. And so I thought of you whenever I saw the beauty here. Sunrises, sunsets, stars at night. Everything took me back to you." 

"But what I couldn't fathom was how I could have so completely misread you. I couldn't imagine why you had such ease with casting me aside like you did the others. It made no sense. From the beginning I was certain that I saw in you the hurt you were hiding from the world. I could only, always, believe that you thought that you needed to over power people sexually, take them, use them to hide your own hurt. I just couldn't believe that using people was so easy for you that it included me. I thought I was more to you. I believed that had actually got into your heart."

"You asked me about the surf board, no tan lines, so I'll tell you what I did to make the days tolerable here. Sometimes when it was too calm for surfing I'd go out there on a surf board where no one would bother me and I'd daydream about you. Most times I played over and over again every single detail about you. Your smell. They way you taste. Your eyes, mouth, how it felt to kiss your lips. You know, all that stuff." 

Louis looks back over his shoulder again for a quick glance at Harry. He has no smile this time and in his eyes it's clear he can't speak if Harry's staring so lovingly into his. Louis protects his emotions by looking back out toward the horizon and continues his confession after a tiny foreshadowing shudder. 

"There were sometimes though, like a few times after a really bad night, when I would wonder what would happen if I just drifted off in the ocean, never to be seen again. Would anyone care? Was I just a piece of ass to men? To you? Did you really trick me into falling for you like you did to all the others too?"

Louis pauses again. Harry is so full of trepidation about where this was going now that he held Louis even tighter and held his own breath. 

"Until the lettters came back I really had fully believed I'd reached you. Your heart, my heart, like we were tied together."

"The only doubt I had about those feelings being real was from our very last few hours together as we rode back to the ranch with Will. I knew you were frustrated with me because I never told you why I was at the program. It just devastated me that one mistake was enough to make you return my letters. I couldn't get that straight in my head. Was that really it? Or did I never matter to you exactly like everyone you were with before me? Were you that broken that you could only hurt and break others?"

Louis begins shaking again despite being warmly, enveloped in Harry's arms and a blanket. Harry has to turn Louis, kiss Louis again, long and completely, until Louis whimpers and melts from the effects of Harry's lips and tongue. Only then does Louis calm. He confesses more of his feelings when the kiss subsides.

"It's just so stupid really. I know that now. Having been with your mum and your sister after your accident, I know how foolish my fears were, that you would hate me for being a fake. For having, or doing what I did. What I did and what I didn't. But when you were unconscious and I got to know you sister and mum I realized you might not be like, um, judge first. Hypocritical couldn't be part of who you are."

Harry cradles Louis' jaw in his hands. His thumbs are caressing skin as he responds. 

"Louis. If this is about you being a really nice person, not some hardened criminal, not some...what was that one story you made up? A cat burgler? If this is about you being a misjudged, literally misjudged, a faultless boy and wrongly accused for doing something with some girl, I know about that. I did try to find you when I got back. I did."

Louis looks slightly relieved although his brows furrow and he is biting his lower lip. It's so cute Harry wants to bite the lip too and ravage Louis beginning by marking skin under his jaw and on his neck where it is painfully visible to all but then the bruises Des left have marred the skin taking it from Harry. Harry restrains himself because of Des' defamation and continues. 

"Really Louis, I did go to look for you. I went to Doncaster on Christmas Eve, your birthday apparently, to find you. I was sitting outside your house, like a stalker, creepily watching it with groceries I was sent to get, wasting in my car when these two girls with Tomlinson-sass confronted me."

"Fizzy and Lottie?" Louis says as his apprehension caves.

"Yep. And let me tell you, when that Felicity gets older I don't ever want to see the soul who crosses her!" 

Louis laughs at that and shakes his head as a knowing brother. 

Harry continues. "Your family took me inside. They told me why you were at Bar 3, how you disappeared from London with someone they didn't know. They had the whole house decorated for your birthday. You poor mum was a wreck."

Harry looses his composure. His tears flow. In turn it's Louis kissing him until the tears fade and Harry can go on. 

"I just couldn't understand you leaving with some bloke, I couldn't. It didn't occur to me that it made no sense to your mum. I went to your work. Met this girl there, Eleanor, we talked about you. Nothing anyone said about you leaving made any sense. Then there was something else. Someone, I'll tell you later but it made me abosolutly insane, what that person said. It checked every box for all of my fears and self-doubt. In my head what they said made sense and it made me completely crazy. After that...I could only hear my ex, what he said to me, that no one would ever want me. I had that my head. The idea he left me with, that I wasn't special to anyone...ever. Not even to you." 

Harry sinks to his knees. He wraps his arms around Louis' waist and fights tears. 

Louis bends over Harry running his fingers into the silky long curls while he kisses the top of Harry's head. "Curly...Harry. Don't you know how beautiful you are? Can't you see your heart, your soul, your compassion. It's so much beauty inside you that you hide. And then there is this, all of this that you have. The legs, the lips, your eyes, your skin, these ridiculously addictive curly, long locks. How can anyone measure your beauty?" 

***

That was how Harry ended up with nearly minutes before the wake up call on the alarm would ring, with full awareness that his mum would soon be knocking at their door, and yet, there he was. Harry was sliding into Louis. 


	64. "Traces in your hair"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just more smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Traces in your hair". We all know the reference to lyrics.
> 
> Credit to 1D for the reference and the inspiration. This is a complete work of fiction.  
> *. *. *. *. *. *. *. *. *. *. *. *. * . *. *. *. *.

Harry feels Louis' lips dancing over his skin. There was no other way to describe what those lips and Louis' fingertips were doing on him. It was like a shadow-dance of a touch, so much a mere hint that it makes every cell in Harry quiver, begging for more. Goosebumps rise and Harry's body makes involuntary reactions, he moans. What Louis is doing to him feels so good that he releases words between gasps and moans such that they come out broken. 

"Please." 

"Stop." 

"Teasing." 

"P-p-put." 

"Me." 

"In!"

Harry hadn't the strength to stop them from coming to here, to this point. Louis would ride him. Replaying of what they had attempted and failed because of Des, was initiated by Louis despite the lack of time for this sexual dallying. 

Moments before they watched the sunrise together on the day they should have been hurrying, getting ready to leave the hotel. This is Louis' last day in a prison-like paradise. Harry's last day on a so-called family vacation. 

Instead of dressing, once the sunrise finished there was such immediate, intense need between them that things became exactly the same as it had been right before Des disrupted them and brutally tossed Louis aside. This is ironic. That unexpected disruption happened because they had no idea four people were about to walk in on them. But now Harry is completely aware that his mum would soon be knocking at their door heralding them to get to the lobby for the trip to the airport in Managua. Harry feels the need to rush this thing they are doing. Louis clearly doesn't. He made a murmuring sound and something like "one last" or "one more" slipped from his lips before they nibbled over Harry's sensitive skin. 

One last time making love before they leave Paradise. 

One more experience to seal their feelings for each other on the heels of gut-wrenching confessions watching the sunrise. 

Worried about the lack of time, Harry had brushed over a few things to attempt to make their intimacy happen faster. If he couldn't stop Louis, he guesses this typically aggressive lover would push things along in his demanding sort of way if Harry positioned Louis on top, letting Louis take charge. From past experiences Louis was sassy, demanding and again, impatient when he needed a good fuck. He naturally took the lead in sex. 

For whatever the reason that "impatient Louis" is not true of Louis at this moment. Louis is straddling Harry like they tried to do before, before the abruptly disruptive Des-rage. He's holding Harry's hardened dick with one hand, but Louis is not getting right to the fucking as Harry expected. Instead, Louis is taking his time, teasing Harry. 

Harry wonders; is Louis still loose enough to take him unprepped maybe because of ligering effects held over from their night of love-making? Looking at how small and delicate Louis is as he is perched over him Harry can't stand the idea of hurting his lover. It's another reason that he wants Louis riding him, make it quick and painless. Let Louis be in control. 

That is Harry's idea but after the sunrise Louis engaged this slow unfolding intimacy as if he is mirroring the gentle breaking of the sun. He peppered Harry with lover's words and kisses. Eliciting reactions from Harry's body that amused him and he admitted he was placated by simply relishing in observing all of Harry's responsive beauty. 

Harry's last plead, begging for Louis to put his dick in, makes Louis stop the pleasing torture. He positions himself upright as he takes Harry's dick to his hole. 

Harry shakes his head with a rapid series of "yes" gestures as he feels Louis' warm hole press against on top of the head of his dick. Harry's hands are gently holding onto Louis' hips and he restrains himself because he wants so desperately to push Louis down when he feels his dick perfectly aligned and wet from lube having slicked the space between Louis' bum cheeks. Louis gives Harry a mischievous look and no satisfaction. He doesn't put Harry in. Instead Louis rises up a little, takes the contact away slightly and proceeds to play more with Harry's cock. 

Harry's hands slide over Louis' bum, he grips the flesh and whines "Looouis, please!" chocking back the urge to make another plea. Instead he closes his eyes, turns his head and tries to lock out the need he feels for taking this faster. He lets his hands gingerly rest on Louis' body and he staves off his urge to take over with his power. It would be so easy for Harry. 

Louis brings them so that Harry feels more contact on his cock formed by Louis pressing himself on Harry's dick like he's preparing to sink but then, no, Louis doesn't sink. He just pushes his hole more firmly on the knob of Harry's cock than the prior contact and laughs about it. He rolls his hips and takes his body away letting Harry's dick slide pleasurably on slicked skin being wedged between two full cheeks but denied penetration again. 

After a couple more minutes of this sort of thing Harry is exasperated and panting. Harry becomes so filled with need that he imagines a couple options of what he wants to do. Harry's has a flash of the idea of rolling Louis down on the bed to lay on his back. Harry simply takes over, plowing into Louis. Then, because of Louis' cruel rutting, the continued sliding of his bum along the length of Harry's fevered cock, a different image flashes across Harry's mind. He gets an idea of pinning Louis face down, slapping Louis' arse until Louis yelps, presents his bum prone for Harry, begging in turn, and yes, again the outcome is that Harry is quickly plowing into him. That's the thing; Harry needs to be buried in Louis. 

Harry finds that he can't keep those images entertained for even more than a split second because the torture Louis is inflicting is so intense that Harry finally is reduced to insanity. He starts laughing and crying at the same time. He feels he's loosing all control. And then. 

Then. 

Harry feels Louis push the head of his cock into his heat. Louis stops with the knob pressed at the place where his rim holds the head tightest. Harry can tell that indeed Louis is still recovering from all the dicking Harry had given him over the course of the night, but Louis' body is still tight on his fat cock. 

Harry's breaks from his idiot like blathering of tears, laughs, nonsensical expressions and pleas. He stares with his watery green eyes at Louis' face. 

Louis keeps a hand on Harry's dick and puts the other hand on Harry's cheek as he smiles, pleased with himself for unraveling Harry, and says with slow emphasis, "Curly, my beautiful, perfect Curly" as he hovers there. 

Harry's tear-filled eyes have problems focusing. His hands, still on Louis' hips sense what his dick is feeling too. Louis is finally sinking down more on Harry's length slowly and completely. It feels incrediable though it is so painfully, deliberately slow. 

Louis lets go of Harry's shaft with his hand as he becomes filled with Harry. Seated with Harry buried deep in him, Louis sighs, gasp-like, contentment. His other hand never left Harry's cheek as he took Harry. That hand gently brushes a thumb over Harry's cheekbone while he stays paused, bottomed there and coos to Harry. 

"Okay then now?" He says sweetly. 

Harry responds again with another rapid head shake of "yes". As Harry starts to speak, Louis lifts his bottom up and slams back down with a change of cadence being completely yin and yang. That makes Harry incapable of speech. 

Louis repeats the pattern again and again pulling half of Harry's impressive length from his heat with each slow rise letting Harry's dick slide partially free but changing course at the extent of the length and coming down forcefully hard and fast as he drops back onto Harry. 

Harry knew this experience is delicious for Louis because everytime he bottoms with each stroke he arches his back, his head falls back and he murmurs from his parted lips "oh, yeah." The pounding is hitting the right spot every time. Louis' skin is cast with red overlaying his caramel coloring and he's drenched with perspiration. 

Louis' cock is reddened too, it's hard and glistening as it moves, wagging stiff between them as Louis continues the pattern of dick riding; slow and gently he slides up, fast and hard he takes Harry bottoming out. It's not long before this has Louis cumming. Splatters of his surprisingly abundent volume of cum hits Harry's upper torso, neck and apparently, some flecks make it to Harry's chin as well. 

Louis shouts fragments of things as he orgasms. Harry grabs Louis' thighs that are shaking and with that Harry can't stop his own chain reaction. Harry begins seeding Louis before he can come free from Louis' spasming walls. He moves his hands again to pull Louis tipping forward into him as Harry brings Louis down to lay on his chest which tilts Louis' bum. In turn this shift of positions lets Harry's cock slip out of Louis and finish ejaculating free from Louis' trembling body. 

The cum Harry dumped into Louis slides out with his dick and it's immediately dripping down onto Harry. But that's only half the mess. Chest to chest the combined wetness of sweat and Louis' jizz makes them seal into one hot, wet mess as Harry also seems recovered from his earlier orgasms and Harry isn't finished yet. He continues ejaculating a copious amount of cum on Louis' arse once he's free from Louis' body. He does this while shouting his own pleasure in equally, unintelligble mutterings as Louis did. Harry's not sure. He thinks he came twice as long as Louis. He's sure he was louder too. 

Lying together as a sticky mess, each is too spent to realize that as they came, one following another, both noisily expressing their pleasures, the alarm on the clock began to sound. It took them some time to realize the ringing they thought was in their ears was not in their imagination. Both have prior experiences with post-orgamic sensations like that side effect one sometimes gets of a buzzing noise in one's head, but in this case the sound was actually a clock. The alarm had been buzzing while they came. 

That reality occurs to their sex-addled brain only as there is also a knock at the door. 

"Ooh fuck!" They both say. 

Louis shoots off Harry and runs for the bathroom saying "shower" though the action needed no explaining. 

Harry jumps up and finds his Bambi-legs have knees that are not working because apparently circulation is not fully restored to normal. He grabs a bedcover, wraps himself with it as he's wiping off with it too in an attempt to not look like he does. Furthermore he knows how he smells --- like he's just been having amazingly raw man-sex. The entire room is most certainly reeking of it. 

Taking a deep breath Harry opens the door and just prays it's not his father. Des hasn't been seen by them since he tossed Louis but their luck may be running out. Harry opens the door with his eyes closed in dread for a split second as he silently prays. "Please not him, please god!" 

It's Gemma. 

"Thank god!" Harry blurts. 

Gemma starts to speak. She looks a little shocked seeing her brother's appearance. So she opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. Her brain is clearly adding up the obvious information in front of her. Her expression is like she's thinking "You must be kidding...again?" 

Harry knows the air has to have a dense scent of sex. Add to that how his face is surely flushed. His lips must be red from all the biting. He's a sweaty mess even with all the jizz wiped away. There's no person on the planet who doesn't see this lad as having literally just fucked. 

Harry makes a funny face, sealing his guilt, and that is all it takes. 

Gemma rolls her eyes and laughs. She laughs hard. Tears fill her eyes and then she reaches for Harry. 

Taking one of his locks of hair she brings it forward so he can see what makes it so interesting. Just above her hold on the strands of hair is a clump of opace goo. Some of Louis landed where Harry didn't feel it. Traces in his hair were reminants as if their needed to be more. 

"You might want to clean up Harry. Don't think mum will buy his traces in your hair as being hair gel." 

Harry laughs too as he blushes at the horror of answering the door wearing ejaculate. He steps back and his sister steps in closing the door behind her. Gemma holds a small weekend bag, not much more than a backpack and she drops it as she takes a seat. 

"And you bettter hurry. Mum sent me because she's settling some final things with our father before we leave. She is having him fly home on a different flight, tomorrow. Seems he's still in the penalty box and she wants this to be as unstressful as possible. Especially for Louis." 

Gemma looks around and says more as Harry is getting some clothes and listening. He hears Louis shut off the shower and he thinks about something he'd not considered before. Gemma continues on like she knows what he must be thinking. 

"About Louis' clothes. We can't have Louis flying home wearing surf attire can we? This is his bag that he came here with but it doesn't feel like there's much in it. He probably didn't bring a lot, expecting to be here only a few days. So Mum wants him to have something nice and new to wear going back. One of Greg's last official acts while you two were, um, yeah, anyway he's having some clothes sent up from that boutique downstairs. A concierge should be knocking any minute. Why don't you get a shower Harry and I'll wait for that. We didn't know what Louis likes so there's going to be a wide choice. I was thinking posh, like how you normally dress, but Greg says Louis is more sporty. We've got a mix of things coming." 

*** 

In the lobby of the hotel Anne has concluded her conversation with Des. Des is sulking in the background of where Anne stands while she's using a hotel land line to phone in to udate a family she's never met. She tells Jay what time they'll arrive in London. It's really, really late. She shares with Jay the information that they have a family residence in London. Their plan is that Louis will be their guest and they will overnight there after the long travel. The two women plan for bringing Louis home to Doncaster the day after.

While Anne is on the phone she sees Des look suddenly alert and focused. Looking to what he is staring at she sees her two children and Louis enter the lobby. Harry has his arm around Louis and Gemma is in the lead. Harry is staring at his father as soon as he sees Des and his expression says "I will fight you." 

Louis is looking very small tucked into her son and he looks frightened. He keeps his eyes down except to glance around fleetingly. Off to the side is Greg. He is drinking in the close-knit couple and clearly taking note of every detail. Harry looks so fashionable and confident. He looks much more mature than his years. Because of alll this Harry is standing tall and his composure is bold. Protective. 

Louis is seems nervous. He bites the nails on one hand as he walks and he looks like he's so very much younger than his age. Maybe it's the clothes he picked. The skinny jeans are youthful and the loose-neck tee under an Adidas hoodie makes him look like he's a school boy not two years older than Anne's son. There's a bean in hanging from one back pocket and in total he looks like he's going to a skate-park, not a first class seat on an international flight. 

Anne bids a hasty goodbye and "you'll have Louis home soon" as she gets off the phone. Both Des and Greg started to approach the three young people crossing the lobby but Anne cuts them off with a snap of her fingers directed at each man. She stares them both down with a glare and uses the exact same words to Des and Greg in turn. Sharply, Anne dismisses them. 

"Hey, no! I told you both. You do not get to speak a word. Go to your corners and stay there until we are gone." 

Anne can't leave it with that. She's too angry. She lashes out again. "Greg, you're lucky because Louis is the only one who can press charges against you, but Des I will perosnlly take you out if you don't follow my rules. So don't come home if that is unclear to you!" 

Gemma was smiling like she wanted to laugh. Her mum is so cool. Harry just took Louis around to be tucked in front of him, arms around Louis as Harry made himself a shield pushing Louis along forward without stopping to the doors. Louis just faded into Harry's mass. 

As the four passed through the doors to the car arranged for their transfer. Greg heard Louis cheerfully say, "Seeki!" 

Anne's last act in Nicaragua to right the wrongs she had no part in was to see to a friendly face driving their party to the international airport in Managua. She'd found this bouncer at a local bar, the man referred to her by the doctor, to be very willing to help escort Louis from the traumatic life he'd been trapped in. Anne wants all of Louis' nightmares to be events put behind him. After all, she was certain this lad was her future son-in law. She could see it in her son's eyes.


	65. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis is reunited with family and friends.

Niall runs into Heathrow international airport at a full sprint looking for Liam and Zayn. 

He finds them waiting on the port where international travelers arriving to London from the US walk out after passing through domestic customs. Niall spots his two boyfriends. They are standing at a great place to see the stream of arriving passengers. 

"Hey," Niall says breathless from his long run. "What'sup?" 

Zayn laughs at Niall's use of his phrase. The three give each other their standard brief hug that is so much a part of their threesome greeting its unconsciously shared around. 

"We decided to ignore Harry's suggestion." Zayn says as he watches the entrance from which passengers are coming into view.

Liam explains. 

The last thing they heard when they got a call from Harry enroute from Managua, to Miami and then home to London was that their flight would be getting in so late. Because of that, Harry said it would be better for them to wait to see each other. Harry also said that the plan for the next day was to go to directly to Doncaster first thing in the morning. The Tomlinson family were understandably desperate to see Louis. 

"Yeah, Zayn and me thought about that, what Harry said." Liam tells Niall. 

"If they get in so late and then go first thing in the morning to see Louis' family what is the chance we'll see Louis anytime soon? Harry seemed to think Louis would stay at home for a few days at least. Zayn and I decided that we can't wait. So we grabbed the box of returned letters and called you. We decided that we can all meet Louis and Harry here, even if it's just a quick welcome home. We need to see them, especially see Louis..."

"Look!" Zayn says as he points to the flow of people coming out of Customs. 

They see Harry and Louis walking behind Anne and Gemma. All four look tired. It had been a very long day for them. 

Harry's height allows him to see further ahead. He immediately spots the three friends waving at them as he is able to see over most people walking in front of him. He smiles and nudges Louis like he's pointing this out to Louis. Louis breaks into a sprint. He runs through numerous people proceeding ahead of him to get to his friends. Upon reaching a few feet away Louis tosses his backpack aside and leaps. 

The jump Louis makes is not a complete surprise to Liam who swoops forward to literally catch Louis. By the time Harry catches up to them, which is a second or two, Louis has his legs wrapped around Liam's waist, the two are holding onto each other, as Zayn and Niall are wrapping around this pair. Harry joins them with Niall and Zayn opening their arms to bring Harry into the clump of hugging boys. Knit together the group is jumping in place and tears fill their eyes as they all talk over each other with their greetings. 

Anne and Gemma come to stand by them with Gemma taking a series of pictures with her phone. Strangers passing by are gawking at this scene because it's clear there is something special going on with this group. 

When they separate a little, Louis slides off Liam. Niall and Zayn move in turn to share their own full-body hugs with Louis. They embrace him for a long time and both do this thing as they pull away after their hugs where they touch Louis in ways that suggest their hands need to feel what they see like they can't believe their eyes. They put a hand on a shoulder, then their hand goes to Louis' face, cupping one side of his cheek, to his waist, then they pull him into their bodies again for another hug, like they still haven't gotten enough verification. It's palpable how much they can't get over seeing Louis again. He's real. After so long missing, Louis is really back. 

There's another thing that makes them want to touch Louis. 

Louis looks different. His hair is tucking out from under a berry colored beanie he's wearing. It's blonder. They can see that. His skin is caramel. He was always like sunshine, but now he's just more. The color of his hair and his skin combine making Louis' eyes look a near impossibly dazzlingly shade of azure blue. Together these things makes Louis look precious. Such a pretty little pixie. 

Another thing that stands out is how Louis is looking deeply fatigued. Who wouldn't be tired after such long flights? What is most strikingly different is how Louis' tired-look was what Harry forewarned. It's more. It's a visible sign of what he's endured. Harry hinted about this concern to them when they spoke by phone when he called them two days ago. The thing is that Harry described, Louis as "fragile". Upon seeing Louis, touching him, it's striking how accurate that is. Louis looks unusually delicate, almost doll-like. Neither Niall or Zayn are massive but for each of them they have an overwhelming feeling, a need of protectiveness because Louis seems so weary and tiny. 

As soon as the welcome home hugs and touches allow Harry presses in behind Louis and he puts his arms around what is his. This juxtaposition makes the changes in both of them more pronounced. Louis was always the smallest. He was an inch or two shy of Niall or Zayn. Harry was always the tallest and being the youngest he seemed to be always growing little by little. However as a pair it was notable how Harry looked massive standing behind Louis. Although Louis was two years older, one would be hard pressed to tell that. Something about Harry was different since he went on his trip and found Louis. 

Now Harry looks like a man.

Liam steps in close to Harry and whispers to him, "You're okay now."

Harry nods leaving it at that with Zayn, Niall and Louis all talking to each other and over each other. The way Harry met Liam's comment suggests that Harry knows the deeper meaning. It was not a question. Liam stated what he can see about his friend. Some maturity. And a lot of something else.

For maybe the first time since Liam met Harry, Harry is actually okay. Liam was addressing the change in Harry that was evident now that Harry had the boy who rescued his heart back with him. 

Harry arrived at Bar 3 so long ago as a damaged soul. His heart had been broken. He carried a darkness and a need for vengeance in him. He marked person after person as victims and abused them with seductions only a fool could resist even though he only took lover's to play with them, turn on them, expose them, cast them aside and move on. That was how it was with Liam for Harry like with so many others. The exception with Liam was that Liam remained a toy of special interest to Harry only because of Liam's unfortunate internal angst over his own situation. Harry liked stringing along Liam because of the conflict Liam had about his repressed sexual orientation. Harry had enjoyed reveling in knowing Liam hated what they did together because Liam disliked doing what was "against god's plan".

Then, at Bar 3, Harry met Louis. Flirty, pretty Louis. Louis seemed to have no shame about his sexuality. Unsettlingly bold, Louis openly said he no qualms about being used by Harry either. It was a paradox. A trap. Louis' complete freedom to give himself to Harry got inside Harry. It knocked away barrier after barrier Harry had put up. Harry was certain he had walled himself away from feelings but when Louis left, Harry's heart was the thing left exposed. 

Finding each other, learning their separation was an act not of their making, Harry was restored. 

The Harry standing at the airport is a Harry that Liam has never seen before, a person reborn. He looks happy. Confident. Admittedly in love.

***

By the time the seven walk out of the airport terminal there are very few people around outside of the terminal. That's probably good because Liam is carrying Louis on his back. Niall and Zayn are chastising Liam teasingly for babying Louis with each of them taking turns jumping on each other's back and being dumped off while carrying a box they toss bewteeen them. They are acting like idiots. Fortunately few are around to see. 

Once outside, every taxi is hoping to assist them. The box that had been passed around, carried by either Zayn or Niall, gets handed to Liam when Louis slides off Liam's back. 

"These are yours." Liam says passing them on to Harry but hesitating as Harry steps forward to take the box. 

"Are those my letters?" Louis squeaks his voice sounding tired and weak. Louis nods at Harry for Harry to take them. 

Liam blushes. "Um", he says looking down embarrassed. "We may have opened a few, or um, some and read them." 

Louis laughs and in a flash reaches out, grabbing and twisting Liam's nipple eliciting a defensive move and loud "ouch" from Liam. 

"How many letters Liam?" Louis asks teastingly. 

Liam looks down and blushes. He kicks his feet around and peeks at his lover's for support. Reluctantly Liam says, "maybe most of them? Or, actually, all of them. I admit. But only Zayn added to them..." 

Zayn smacks Liam. "That was a surprise!" 

To Harry and Louis Zayn confesses. 

"I did add a few illustrations, that's it. To do Harry, I had to go off Liam's recommendations. You know so I could get the scale right for that anaconda of his, but Louis, I think I got you about perfect. It's my gift to you because those letters have some creative ideas." 

After this box is exchanged, confessions shared, there is another round of hugs and they say their goodbyes for a few days because in the morning, no delay, Louis goes home for a little time in Doncaster. Liam, Niall and Zayn are glad they came to see their friends even if for a fleetingly brief time. 

Still, it's hard for them to part. Liam gets tears in his eyes. Growing into a daddy-like persona in terms of fatherly, loving natural instincts Liam is particularly emotional. He's acting just like a father sending a child off to their first camp; it will be short, not forever, but it's a big step and always hardest thing for a good parent. Learning to let those they love go.

Eventually Niall and Zayn have to loop an arm on each side of Liam's body and lead him off. As Harry and Louis duck into a cab with Anne and Gemma they hear the two comfort Liam. 

"It will be okay Li. They'll be back soon. When we get home will do that thing you like to do most."

"The thing with the marshmallows?" Liam asks in a hopeful voice.

Harry laughs at what he heard. He hopes they aren't talking about one of those kinky sex things.

***

Harry had seen the Tomlinson's house decorated before. That time it was Christmas, Louis' birthday, when Harry was at the Tomlinson's uninvited and trying to understand what happened. Coming home to no messages from Louis left Harry completely torn and feeling uncertain. This homecoming however, was an entirely different kind of event. The only thing missing from the welcome home party was a unicorn on the front lawn. In terms of other festive decorations the Tomlinsons had them all. Balloons, streamers, lights, a bubble making machine, confetti guns...a bouncy house. Not to mention there were kids everywhere. All wearing party hats. Many in face paint.

"Actually there is one", Gemma points out because Harry had just voiced that only a unicorn was missing when they approached. "Oh wait," she adds, "No, no unicorn. That's a white pony, haha, my bad."

The four step out of the car and three part quickly as a wall of family decends on Louis. First and foremost in need to pull Louis to them for a massive hug is twins, Daisy and Phoebe. After that it's Fizzy and Lottie. Some other kids, maybe cousins or neighbors are swarming Louis too. The image of him endlessly being piled onto with hugs and kisses is warming and at times slightly hysterical. Jay and Mark Tomlinson have to wait to welcome their son. What else can they do? 

Jay and Mark are quick to greet Anne and Gemma like they were life-long friends, while Louis is busy with the greeting of kids. Once children are finished it is impossible for Jay to keep back her tears as she hugs and kisses her "sweet, sweet boy". Harry can see she's so relieved to have her son home but her motherly sensibility zeros in on things she's not happy with. Jay is incapable of hiding her feelings. There's something about her son's appearance Jay markedly doesn't like. She's reserved about that. It's obvious she will address the abuse later when it's private. Children are still swarming around them and it's impossible to have privacy for addressing the issue. 

Mark, for all Harry can tell, is just the kind of man and a devoted father that Harry wished his father could be. He calmly greets his son. He's so tall Harry that can't believe Louis is Mark's son, but Mark has a truly genuine father-like quality, a characteristic that Harry's own father lacks. Mark appreciates Louis for who Louis is, the person. At this reunion Mark too shows restraint as he takes in the obvious signs of his son's abuse. 

After Mark finishes a few softly spoken words whispered to his eldest as he holds Louis in a hug longer than most men would embrace their son, he turns to greet Harry. 

Harry feels a sudden rush of anxiety. He hadn't met Mark before, not on his unexpected visit on Christmas Eve. Now he was face to face with a man who was important to receive acceptance. 

Harry swallows hard and extends his hand to Mark.

Mark takes Harry's hand firmly and he pulls Harry right into him with the handshake becoming a hug. Before Harry is released from the strong embrace there are many pats to Harry's back given along with accolades. "Son, you are a hero in my book. Thank you for going and finding our boy, bringing him home and loving him like you do."

Harry is shocked. Did Mark just call him "son", a "hero" and thank him for loving Louis?

How different would Harry's life be if he had been accepted by his father in the beginning? What would that have meant if Harry had been able to cry on his father's shoulder after he was heartbroken the first time even though Harry's lover was man? Would Harry have perhaps the chance to work through his hurt with support and loved again with out embracing all the darkness? Why can't everyone understand hate only breeds hate?

Harry looks over at Louis. Mark was still continuing to praise Harry. Half of what he said about how much Harry is wonderful is being said directed to Harry, half is said directed to Anne and Gemma for their role in bringing Louis home. Jay is now standing close to her husband, agreeing with his effusive appreciation of Harry, to all of them. With all the talking Harry is able to just study Louis through a filter of this loving family. 

Louis is so beautiful. The Tomlinson family is loving. The mayhem-causing children literally swarm Louis and pull him onto the ground in a pile. These kids are play-wrestling and it's naturally something about him that brings out this energy. It's very physical, loving and comedic. Lottie is standing over the pile and directing the "attacks". She's laughing with tears of joy coming down her face. Of all the siblings, Harry decides that Lottie looks the most like her brother. Lottie has big blue eyes. She's petite like Louis. Her face is doll-like and flawless. If Harry were into girls she would grow into the type of woman he'd be attracted to.

Harry still can't figure out who all the other kids are. But watching Phoebe and Daisy playing with Louis it's very clear that no brother could ever be loved more than those two girls clearly adore Louis.

***

Hours later, after the initial spree of excitement on the front lawn there were a lot of kids remaining outside where it was better for high energy fun. Yes, there was even a small white pony which Harry spent a lot of time leading around at the request of the tiny tots wanting to do riding. The pony reminded Harry and Louis of a smaller Snowball, although this pony is not nearly as magical looking. Snowball had mythical presence in spades. And there was a bouncy house. Louis seemed unable to free himself from within it. 

Harry initially found it hard to let Louis be himself and play. All Harry could think of were the bruises, Louis' ribs. To make matters worse Harry knew Jay had seen enough of the visible marks in the first second she spotted her son to be very concerned. She was only withholding saying anything until later maybe. Finally after a few hours of this with wild children demanding all of Louis' attention Harry resigns himself that he has to save Louis. Reluctantly he enters the bouncy house into which Louis had disappeared. 

Big mistake. There seemed to be a lot of small girls but, cute an small or not, these little children must have secret superpowers because Harry can't get the better of them. At one point he has a near suffocating experience, play as it was, when Louis rescues him by extracting several girls off of Harry. Harry is breathless and feeling light-headed.

Louis looks down at the liberated Harry and smiles. Harry's heart leaps. "His eyes. His eyes..." Harry things. Nobody has eyes that smile into someone's heart like Louis' can when he is happy and fonding. 

Louis tips close to Harry and for a split second Harry is sensing a kiss is coming so he parts his lips. 

Wack!

A strike of a foam noodle hits Louis on the side of the head diverting the tender moment. 

There stands Fizzy. She's just like the sassy girls taking riding lessons from Kyla that Harry remembers from Bar 3. Those girls knew way too much about "things" when they teased Harry about his attraction to Louis. 

"Get a room!" Fizzy says laughing, waving the noodle in a bluffing threat at her brother. 

Fizzy gave them a pass to escape this banter and rough play outside. Harry and Louis take their cue to head inside for a while. Anne and Gemma are already in the house where the setting was a more quiet, peaceful, adult-centered family reunion. 

Interior introductions are much more formal. There are grandparents and extended family sitting around. To be certain, all are extremely glad to have Louis back and very grateful to the Styles for bringing him home. What becomes obvious for Harry though, is how this group of adults couldn't see realities like the children could see. 

The older generations don't know Louis is gay. Jay and Mark didn't forwarn Harry or his family of this but the situation becomes obvious. They all say to Harry how they are so happy Lous is safe and home where he belongs. Some asked if Harry met Louis through his friend Stan or through Louis' girlfriend. Girlfriend? Obviously the extended family was not privy at to all the real details of Louis' private life.

Mark's father, Keith is particularly clueless. 

It occurs to Harry, Anne and Gemma, as they are meeting the older relatives, that Mark is not the man who fathered Louis, though to the family, it had always been that Mark is the only father Louis has ever known. Suddenly Harry understands why Fizzy is so tall. Mark's father, Keith, introduces himself. Quickly the Styles assess Keith's position. Keith stands out as a dominating force. He's the patriarch in a classic sense. He is a man's man in the way Des expects all men of value to be. In the room where most the older relatives are seated, Keith presides. He stands in the middle wher everyone can see him, talking loudly and brandishing his ideas about everything. 

So it is that Harry finds himself having that conversation. "That conversation" where you talk with some old person who has no clue that you're not one of them. You're one of what they call "those people". So you let them assume you are a person they assume you to be based on societal bias of what is the norm. 

"So Harry you and my grandson became friends at that detention program in the US. Tell me, was it as good at taking boys and making men out of them as the reputation claims?" Keith asks. Keith standing too close to Harry. His voice is too loud. Harry can see none of Louis in this person. However Keith does remind Harry of Des.

Harry listens for a while as Keith yaps on and on. Soon enough Harry is weary and pretends he's listening while what Harry is really thinking is what a complete idiot Keith is. So out of touch. Did Bar 3 make boys into men? Harry could only think how Liam arrived as a very manly sort of chap only to become what is best described as a complete puppy. Was Liam in the manliest of professions following the rehabilitation in the program? Yes. But was that because Liam was oh-so-ripped and masculine? No. not even close. Liam is actually a sweet puppy and a lovingly romantic guy. He has a big, soft heart and loves to take care of people. It wasn't a masculine thing, being a fireman, not really.

Looking around the room and seeing all the elderly people and realizing theirs wasn't a time for acceptance but his and Louis could be, Harry plays the role. These are not people like Will, a man ahead of his time. Harry is missing Will's wisdom and Harry finds that longing makes him brave enough to stand here for Louis' reunion and play a role. These old people are stuck in the ideals of the past. So Harry begins to tell Keith some Liam-stories: Liam becoming a very skilled cowboy at the ranch, Liam returning and being a fireman. The more machismo the story Harry tells about Liam the better. Harry even slips in a few innuendos that could be construed as non gender specific when he talks about Liam's impressive love life but Keith misses that too. 

Hinting about love gets Keith launching into talking about Louis' girlfriend. Keith considers her a catch. Harry looks to where Louis is sitting next to an old woman and it's a tender family moment between them. Louis being so sweet with his Nanna helps Harry to resolve that he can stand this overbearing, outdated thinking if it's for that beautiful boy. He can bear it through eternity, if it takes that long, for the world to catch up. 

Louis feels Harry's watchful stare and he looks over to Harry from where he is sitting. It's that smile again from Louis, just for Harry, when their eyes meet. Then Louis mouths the word, "okay?"

Louis knows. His "step" grandfather is a hard core homophobe.

Harry's smiles back reassuringly and nods "yes".

Then Harry focuses on Keith. "Oh Louis talks about Hanna all the time. I'd love to meet her."

***

Off in the kitchen some of the same topics are being shared by a smaller group who are preparing food. The house is about to explode with more people arriving and a feast is ready to be served. Anne and Gemma along with Lottie are helping Jay. Mark is going from kitechen to back garden setting up place settings at long portable tables. The garden hpbehind the house is decorated and celebratory too.

All hands are busy but the privacy affords the small group in the kitchen a chance to clarify some things as they work. 

"Yes, Louis is openly gay but the entire family is not privy to that..."

"Someday Phoebe and Daisy will come to know about Louis. Mark and I let the girls mature into these ideas in their own time. We teach tolerance, someday they will ask when they see it but right now they don't think boy-girl, boy-boy things..."

"Oh sure, Mark's father, Keith, requires special handling. Yes, he's completely homophobe but he can't see it that Louis is gay. He thinks because Louis is so good at sports, competitive, fierce, that his only grandson is all man. Keith is very proud of his adoptive grandson. We let him think what he wants." 

"Hanna? She has always been Louis' best girl. They have been the closest of friends since they were very young and she is a real sport. She genuinely loves Louis. They are just best friends though. She's coming anytime now so you will meet her as well as Louis' other best life-long friend, Stan."

With many questions answered for the Styles, Jay finally asks them about the thing she has been putting off for the hours since she first saw her son.

"Who made those ugly bruises on Louis?"

***

When Louis' friends arrive all the kids come inside with them and the house was full of boundless energy. Maybe it, Harry thinks, is because of the way Louis is around kids that makes everything seem right in the world for him despite kids everywhere and total chaos. It also doesn't hurt to see how much love these old friends share with Louis and have it be completely lovely and not at all a threat to Harry's place in Louis' heart.

Harry immediately likes both Stan and Hanna. Stan clearly thrives on the way Louis spins him up. He's a funny guy, a bit pugdy so he is self-depreciating. Harry gets the idea Stan might go both ways and he also might not. Harry considers that maybe Stan has been part of Louis' experimental period coming of age, a friend with benefits, or maybe not. Harry can't tell. He just sees how Stan and Louis are very close. Their behaviors straddle a line. How does Keith miss this? 

Stan is also direct. The first words out of his mouth would have shut the whole room up had anyone heard them other than Louis, Harry, Gemma, Hanna and Lottie. 

Seeing the bruises on Louis' neck, unabashedly Stan comments on them. "Wow Tommo. You and the prince here into that choking during sex or what? Those are some massive marks you got there mate!"

Stan turns to Harry and adds more, "Did you knot him while you marked him, that's impressive." 

Louis slaps his hand over Stan's mouth to shut Stan off. Keeping his hand there, Louis steps into Stan and smacks Stan hard in the crotch. Everyone laughs and Stan gasps through a mix of fake and real pain "Thanks, you know I love it when you play with my balls."

Harry's thoughts are leaning more to Stan having been a sure-fire friend with benefits but Harry's not jealous, oddly. 

Louis tries to give Hanna a kiss in greeting and she turns at the last second with a move that just glances off Louis' lips as she falls directly into Harry, apparently, quite deliberately. Harry catches her and Hanna gives him a very quick kiss on the lips for the save. With a wink she says, "There now. I've had that pleasure with two insanely gorgeous gay men." 

Did Hanna just steal a kiss from Louis to gift it to Harry? This girl is awesome! Harry loves the fake-girlfriend. 

Hanna must have eyes in the back of her head too, because she is aware before anyone else that Keith came into the room with camera in hand to snap a candid reunion picture documenting the moment. Without missing a beat she grabs onto Louis and deep throats him in a sultry kiss that is boarderlne for mature audiences only. 

With the picture taken "in secret", so Keith thinks, he happily turns away and leaves them in peace. Keith is satisfied his world view is right. There are no deviants in his house. 

Hanna lingers with her arms around Louis and she keeps him in her embrace for a minute with their foreheads pressed together as she speaks to him barley audible.

She is tall for being as slight as she is, a couple inches taller than Louis. Her arms are thin and they look pretty draping on Louis' shoulders holding him close. She has pretty brown eyes and her skin is a lot like Louis' in that she is not a fair skinned blond. Her look is perfect for Louis'. In every way they are a beautiful couple. No wonder Keith is happy in his bubble. 

Embracing her life-long friend she says, "You need this one my little Peter Pan. He's perfect and you are too small. I don't like these things that other boys try to do to you. I need you to be safe you sassy little twat."

Lottie is smiling the most. She clearly loves her brothers fake-girlfriend too. 

The announcement that food is served breaks apart this tender moment between friends. As Harry walks behind Louis who has his arm affectionately around both his hometown mates. Harry thinks of the word "prince" from Stan. The way Hanna echoed what Will knew instantaneously too. 

Are soul mates always this oblivious to onlookers Harry wonders.

*** 

It's getting late when Harry realizes how much, unlike earlier, things are much quieter at the Tomlinson's. Most of the children had gone home; apparently many were neighbors kids. The oldest relatives were back home. The house had thinned to only include Louis' immediate family, the Styles, Stan, Hanna, and Keith, who seemed to be set on convincing Stan of some thing that had Keith and Stan in a serious debate. Stan grew up knowing Keith. He takes the overbearing patriarch in stride. Keith must like how Stan has the skills to disagree and put up a good argument. This is instructive for Harry to witness. 

Meanwhile Hanna and Louis are looking very convincingly couple-like. They are sitting very causally and closely linked together on a couch. Between them words are exchanging in whispers making it clear they don't want anyone intruding. It would have been insufferable for Harry to see this except he sees they way they both glance at him constantly. He can tell all their hushed secrets are about him. 

Harry feels no jealousy. He can't. He finally knows how much Louis loves him. He can see how Hanna is mesmerized hearing all the reasons why this is true. Harry notices she giggles and blushes a few times at what Louis confides to her. Harry would like to let Louis spend hours more sharing all his favorite things with his girl-friend about him. It's just that Louis is looking more and more exhausted. Harry wants to go pick Louis up, tuck his lover into him and carry him to bed. He wants to pepper his lover's body with kisses and hold him until they drift off to sleep. But he also dreads that he will soon have to leave Louis and go home to Cheshire. So he's stuck watching. 

Harry decides to go to the kitchen where he knew his mum and Anne are privately talking. Gemma, Lottie, Fizzy and the twins are upstairs doing girl things. That's how Daisy described it when she pulled Gemma into their world. 

Anne smiles warmly and welcoming at her son when Harry comes to join them in the kitchen. Before anyone can say anything Jay greets Harry with a loving hug and a similarly warm, loving smile. "We were just talking about you, son." Jay says. 

Harry likes the way Louis' parents call him "son". He likes the way it feels to have Jay's smile, her hugs. He sees so much of Louis in her that this is killing him to think of leaving his lover because now it's like this Tomlinson family is his family too. After all he has had his long hair braided twice by Louis' sisters while he ate dinner earlier. Once it was by Phoebe. She snuck up behind him and braided his hair while he played at not noticing as he talked with some grown ups. Fizzy came along and undid the braids. Daisy came after that and braided them again with the addition of flowers. Again Fizzy undid the braids and scolded her sisters saying something terse about "not in front of Keith". Then Harry thought heard Fizzy say that she and Phoebe could paint Harry's nails some other time if they behaved. No more braids and flowers in Harry's hair unless he asks! 

Before Harry has loitered for long the kitchen and sulked about the pain he feels for considering even a minute away from Louis, there is Louis coming into join him. He's popped into the kitchen because apparently Hanna and Stan are leaving. They wanted to say good bye to Harry, Louis says. 

Harry leaves the kitchen to say farewells when he hears Louis behind him talking to his mum and Anne. As Harry steps from that room the words Louis says make Harry's eyes fill with tears immediately. His heart becomes so full hearing Louis pose a specific question to the two mums. 

"Do you think maybe Harry can stay here too as I think it will hurt too much when he's gone as I will miss him?" 

Harry's farewell to Hanna and Stan is brief. Brief but each of Louis' friends puts their arms around Harry and whispers a sweet comment, brief and quietly because Keith is still hanging around taking pictures again. Mark comes back from diriving home some family and this speeds up the process of expiditing Keith's departure. Apparently Mark knows how to handle his dad. 

After Keith is sent home Mark puts his hand on Harry's shoulder and they walk toward the voices in the kitchen. Mark says, "Son, let's go to the kitchen and see what the your mum and Jay are up to." 

Harry loves this family. This man is such an amazing father. If only Des could be more like that.

*** 

Harry wakes because his feet are too cold. They are sticking out of the covers and off the bed touching metal rails. He feels the edge of an unfamiliar bed. Somehow he knows one roll toward his back and he is certainly falling on the floor. 

Where is he? What woke him?

Pressed to his chest is Louis' back. Pressing up against Harry's pelvis is Louis' arse. He must be in heaven!

Harry's eyes open. They clear and he can see that he is pushed to the edge of this small bed, his own bum nearly tipping off the edge because Louis had pushed him here, hogging a familiar bed.

Across from Harry and the sleeping Louis, are two little girls with their chins resting on criss-crossed arms. They giggling. Tomlinson twins are along side the shared bed watching them. Harry is suddenly aware he's awakened in Louis' bed at the Tomlinson's home. 

How long were the girls watching Harry and Louis sleep with Harry wrapping Louis in his arms, Louis pushed into Harry's core? 

Harry is mortified but he doesn't move a muscle. At first. 

Slowly he brings an arm free from the blankets and puts a finger in front of his lips signing a "Shhh". Don't wake Louis.

Two heads nod and they slip away like adorable child ghosts. No sooner do they step into the hall than Harry hears Lottie encountering them. Immediately she is scolding her sibs. "I told you. No going into Louis' room when he's in there with Harry! They need sleep! Be good girls!"

The girls giggle at their oldest sister. 

Daisy protests a little boldly to Lottie. Harry can see her because the door is wide open. As Daisy speaks she twists her body back and forth with overplayed sweetness and makes a series of giggles about her discovery. She's clearly too smart to be oblivious to something being different about Harry sleeping over and yet Daisy is innocent of the meaning she shares.

"They are laying on Louis' bed like mum and da. Harry has Louis in his arms and they look like sleeping kittens."

Phoebe holds in her laugh with a hand over her mouth. Phoebe's action is a Louis-thing Harry has witnessed Louis do countless times. It so girly and sweet when a Tomlinson modestly covers their mouth, even Louis. Lottie shakes her head at them and reprimands both again although her tone is softer likes she's trying not to laugh at the image of her brother and his boyfriend.

"No more going into your brother's room, understand me? Not while Harry is here."

Harry pulls Louis tighter into him. This almost causes Harry to finally fall off the bed. He catches himself and creeps up and over Louis coming to find a place to lay in the center of the bed.

Lying there Harry is captivated looking at Louis. He pulls Louis to the center to bring him closer. When Louis makes a muffled protest Harry leaves him mid-move. This brings Louis to be laying on his belly. Soft breathing resumes and Harry can't do anything but listen to it.

In the main part of the house below Harry hears typical family sounds. They are happy and lively sounds. He smells food. The sun is softly breaking into the room and life feels perfect. 

Louis continues sleeping soundly beside Harry. 

The sun reaches their bed, a bed too small for Harry. He realizes his feet stick out beyond it but it is indeed perfect.

Louis is beside him. Snoring softly.

The noise downstairs quiets. Harry thinks Mark has gone to work. Maybe Jay has seen the kids off to school too.

He listens. Not a sound for some matter of minutes. They are alone.

Recalling the day before Harry remembers how it was he came to stay here when the party was over. 

Louis said that he would miss Harry. Jay was understanding.

After that Harry's mum revealed her concern: Anne had much ahead of her to do to clarify things with Des.

The two mothers decided Harry should stay.

So it was that Harry had permission. 

Permission. To stay. With Louis. 

For a few days.

Give Anne time to confront Des.

And Harry thought about what this all meant.

Louis was still soundly sleeping. He was lying on the bed beside Harry bum-side up, chest-side down. He's face was turned away from Harry. The sun hits the bed. 

Louis skin on his exposed back is illuminated. Harry is breathless drinking it in. 

The covers are lying on Louis' body such that they fully expose Louis' back and hide all but the top of Louis' bum. Dimples of the lower back are exposed. Harry l o v e s, l o v e s, loves Louis' back dimples. They are at least as spectacular as the curvature of Louis' arse, or the "arc of perfection", which is where Louis' back tapers to his tiny waist and fills out with the swell of his ass. But yes, Louis' dimples. His curves. His bum.

Harry can't help himself. 

His hand takes the top edge of the blanket. 

He pulls it down just an inch. 

Succulent. Harry breathes deep. He pulls the balnket again, just another inch or so and then Harry looses all breath. 

Harry knew the rules. No sex in the house...but did that mean if the family was gone? 

***

It was a struggle to keep those full cheeks parted even in Harry's big hands. 

Louis is pushing back on Harry's tongue, mewing and writhing. 

They were supposed to not fuck in the Tomlinson house. 

But with Louis so wanting for Harry. The way Louis' hands are gripping fists fills of sheets, his pleads for more, his back arching, his hole welcoming from Harry's rimming; who could resist?


	66. The Rainbow Pony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final day in Doncaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update was ready to publish a week ago but then scrapped much of it and rewrote the direction of the fictional Des because of the outcome of the US election.
> 
> It is important to me to take a person who is phobic of those different than him and transform him into a redeemable soul. We have to believe love can triumph. Good is more addictive tha evil. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this update. Celebrate diversity. Love and beauty has many forms.

Harry could live like this forever; waking each morning in the Tomlinson's home, staying in bed as the house transitioned from filled with happily family morning noises to quiet with he and Louis left alone wrapped together sharing Louis' tiny bed.

After the quiet decends Harry makes love to Louis. Each morning they exhaust themselves with all the things they do. 

It's fast sex, it's slow sex. 

It's rough. It's gentle.

It's whatever they want.

And it's usually almost noon before they come down to the kitchen having quenched their thirst for each other and needing some food.

Sadly on this morning Harry knows this is their last day. The time they had in this bliss was only supposed to be a few days, enough time for Anne to work through some issues with Des. Harry will have to give up this. He can't hide away with Louis here at the Tomlinson home forever. 

However, if Anne is successful Harry will not have to give up Louis. Some plan would be made. A settlement between Anne and Des. Anne would work on Harry's father and how they as a family will learn to accept Harry's life is his own to live. Like his choices or not, Anne intended to see her son find himself as a person.

Fear about so much uncertainty for their tomorrow has Harry slower than normal to waking Louis. On the previous mornings Harry would begin waking Louis immediately with his lips brushing over Louis' skin. Today, Harry finds he's staring at the clock with his back to Louis counting minutes and dreading that he can't stop time, can't replay the last three days over and over.

Harry is just thinking he should risk calling his mum, since they had not spoken for days, and see if it was going okay. Maybe they could have more time? 

He's so nervous. Before he decides what he should do Harry feels Louis stir. Without hesitation Louis' arms come to wrap around Harry. Louis pulls his body into spooning Harry's while nibbling on Harry's shoulder blade, peppering Harry's skin with kisses.

Now that Louis is awake Harry knows Louis is going to insist on a good dicking so for a few hours more Harry can try to block out all the fears about his father and the acceptance he knows Des can't give to homosexually.

Harry rolls over to face Louis who looks sleepy and soft but lights the room when he gives Harry the first smile of the day. 

Harry takes Louis' face in one hand, cupping the delicate features before giving Louis a sweet good morning kiss. As their lips part and Harry opens his eyes he looks at Louis' neck, his hand drifting away from Louis' face to softly brush across the skin there. 

Bruises remain. They are yet to turn and begin fading. Harry studies them. He also notes a continuing hint of exhaustion that resides in Louis' face. There are ever-present eyebags. Louis needs protection, Harry resolves to himself, he won't let anything threaten to separate he and Louis again. Harrry will be there the next time someone threatens Louis just as Louis was there when Harry was drowning.

*** 

Sixth sense.

Harry isn't sure about the football idea. Louis was insistent. 

This is the afternoon of their last day in Doncaster, and even though they had spent most of their afternoons hanging out with the hometown gang who were Louis' closest friends, Louis had not yet played football with his usual mates. He so desperately wanted to play one game with them before he left town. Playing football with his questionable ribs was a stupid idea and Jay had said "no, absolutely not" to that. 

The determination Louis had, the promise from his friends to keep it light, not so rough, made Harry cave to Louis' wishes. 

After they started playing Harry felt better because Louis was being more his normal self. Harry was reminded of the Louis he knew from meeting in the States. That competitive little one made he, Liam and Niall win the relay race. That Louis who fiercely played king of the mountain on the giant rock up at the alpine lake all those months ago was like Louis once he was free to play his favorite sport. That Louis is not afraid. 

The tired-looking Louis, the one Greg created, the one Harry's father battered? Well Harry may have brought that Louis home to recover but he couldn't heal Louis with only making love and rest. Harry becomes convinced as he watches more of this very friendly game. It's clear Louis can't be kept in a glass box. He needs other distractions. He needs to be like the boy who free enough to lay on a mountain meadow and summon a butterfly because of his Peter Pan appeal. Louis is playing well and although he's occasionally holding his mid section like the running is a strain, he's not daunted. Happiness and sass lofts off him. 

So why does Harry have a sickening feeling? Why is he so unsure? 

He's sitting beside the field where this very make shift game is playing. Everything is light-hearted and friendly among the lads. Harry questions a tingling, hair-rising sensation on the back of his neck. Haunted with a sixth sense alarming feeling of flight Harry look around for something. 

He is about to get up and move to where Hanna and a couple of girls who are her and Louis' friends are sitting. They had offered Harry to sit and watch with them but Harry was shy about it at first because he knew his fond would be pathetically obvious. 

Admittedly, not opting to sit with them became a stupid cop-out anyway. They so were busy talking girl-talk and honestly, it's nothing Harry hasn't heard before; he does have an older sister that he is quite close to.

Harry stands to go join them when he sees it. A car parked where it's discrete. The sports car stands out because it screams "money". It's one of Harry's father's many trinkets.

Glancing to Louis playing to make sure Louis doesn't notice Harry walks toward the car. This isn't going to be easy confronting his father but if Des is here spying on them, no time like the present to find out how bad his mother's family reconciliation plan has gone.

***

Des gets out of his car and walks briskly to meet his son who is striding toward the car confidently.

They reach each other half way between the car and the field where Louis and his friends are playing. 

Face to face a few seconds of awkward pause is exchanged. "Father" and "Son" where the only words spoken. Both used deep, manly voices in addressing the other. Harry had a hint that his father wanted to shake his hand or maybe even hug him, but Harry had a invisible barrier blocking any such reception. Behind where they stand Harry hears the lads playing, shouting and laughing. His father isn't going anywhere near the pitch. Harry is determined.

Des sighs. 

His son looks resolute and determined in a confrontational stance. It's a quality to being man that Des has wanted to see in Harry. An alpha, like Des. Des has hammered Harry time and time again pushing the idea that to be a man requires force. A leader. A dominant. And here is Harry delivering on Des' wish. 

Harry's posture says "don't cross this line". 

Des looks with deliberate emphasis to suggest he's trying to see around Harry's invisible blockade while respecting the invisible force field. This surprises Harry. He wants his father to only look at him.

"What are you looking for? Why are you here?" Harry demands.

"I'm, I..." Des looks down. The act of looking down is a yield. 

Des never yields and yet he is. Keeping his eyes down Des continues.

"I'm not suppose to be here. Not allowed to be in contact with you and ..."

"My boyfriend. The words are me and my boyfriend. His name is Louis. Okay, f a t h e r. So what are you looking for? Why exactly are you here?"

There's a little desperation or resignation to Des' tone when he speaks again. His eyes give up staring down and he looks past Harry again and this time Harry knows without checking that Des has spotted Louis and his eyes are following Louis on the field.

"I came to see his parents actually. I'm strictly forbidden to go near your boyfriend. Your mum, she's made it very clear. In fact she's made it so crystal that I know she is not kidding. I will loose her, you, Gemma, everything. We've been hashing this over for days. Last night I was thinking about what your mum said, about Louis as a person. That he is not some random queer. I was thinking how she said that he is someone's son. Someone's brother. A kind, beautiful person. He makes you happy. She likes him. Your sister does too."

Des stops and he glances once at Harry then he takes a more relaxed, casual stance and steps where he has clear view and watches this game of Louis and friends. He doesn't speak.

Harry isn't trusting his father but he turns and stands behind Des and watches the lads playing unaware that he and his father are sharing a similar posture as they watch from afar.

The game goes on with Louis making some impressive moves. His friends might be giving him latitude given his injuries but it's clear that his skill is much more than that. Louis is keenly aware of his body, where he needs to be, how to play. This is all watched by Harry and Des in minutes of continued silence.

Unexpectedly, Louis takes the ball and drives it in scoring for his team. This is the winning point. Harry almost runs over reflexly because the players have so much adrenaline energy they seem on the verge of manhandling each other too much as Louis' teammates start jumping around and onto each other in celebration. Like Harry, they catch themselves, rein in exuberance with Louis, not getting too rough, although both teams are putting their hands on Louis, on his hair to ruffle it, his shoulder to hold it as they are giving him praise, a slap on the butt. Harry forces himself to relax and stay put as all the normal fair play congrats are shared around with Louis the most celebrated. 

Stan was playing too. Louis is wearing a number 17 and his mate Stan is wearing an 18. Harry relaxes more seeing from his distance that Stan is vigilant keeping Louis guarded just in case anyone forgets and gets too zealous. The game is over and friends are saying goodbyes. 

Meanwhile Des is remaining quiet and observing.

Eventually Des speaks. 

"He is really, really good. Isn't he? He plays with such heart."

Harry takes this in and is surprised, shocked actually. He only nods. He's waiting for the "but..."

"The bigger lads all like him too. You can see they respect him, look at that, it's like he's this tiny lion."

Now Harry is worried. Has an alien invaded his father? Des had spoken that complement of Louis in a tone like a man who was fanning a little like men do when their favorite player on their favorite team scores. It's weird. It exactly like Keith was about Louis, being good at sports makes everything okay, so Harry lets go of responding to gay doesn't impose a stereotype and waits. He still expects the "...but,"

More silence than Des says one last thing as he turns like he's is going to go back to his car. 

"You were never very good at sports Harry. Actually, you were always quite awful except at polo. And half of that was your ponies skill more than yours. I always wanted my son to be one of the athletic greats. Sad, I know, to want something as meaningless as that. It is only sports. But you were always more interested playing with, um those toy Breyer horses and the dolls that rode them. You even had a favorite toy horse with a rainbow mane when you were three and I could never get it away from you." 

Harry hasn't thought of that toy for years. It was so important to him that Harry blurts out what he remembers about it going missing. 

"I remember that toy! I know I must have lost it, but Mum made up a story to make me feel better. I realized she did that when I was old enough to know where our presents really came from. But when I was little I remember waking up Christmas morning and I had all these new toys but I cried and cried because I couldn't find my rainbow pony. I lost it. Mum told me maybe Father Christmas took it because it needed new mane and tail hairs because I played with it so much they were falling out. She told me he'd probably bring it back fixed up." 

Des looks mortified. "You didn't loose it Harry. When I started a fire in the fireplace on that Christmas morning I waited near it until you and Gemma were so busy ripping open presents that no one saw as it shoved your favorite toy into the fire along with some ripped up wrapping paper. Your mum never saw me do it. She made up a good lie but I remember she searched everywhere fearing she's accidentally put it in the bin with all the boxes and mess from so many presents. Even though you had all new toys, way to many for one child, you still cried over it for days. So she gave you something hopeful to believe." 

Harry's expression is more mortified than was his father's as Des confessed. 

"You are such a monster. Who does that to a child?" 

"Your right, Harry. The expression on your farce is precisely the same as that of Mr and Mrs Tomlinson when I confessed to them over an hour ago. Invited into their home where my visit was not what they expected I had to reveal that it was me, your father, who was responsible for the injuries inflicted on their son. That's why I'm here. To apologize to them. When I threw Louis across that suite in Nicaragua it was with no more regard for him as I had for a child's toy years ago. Both sharing in common only that they are important to you and I held in contempt with total disregard for your feelings. Never mind these are not my decisions to make about that which you love. It's true, I've been a monster." 

Des kicks at rocks on the ground giving Harry the latitude to take this confession in. He doesn't seek a response from Harry. 

"I should go, get home. No doubt that by now you mum will have heard from the Tomlinson's that we met. About my apology. I'm sure Jay and Mark are weighing whether they want to press charges for the assault. They're probably discussing this with your mum. I'll go see what the decision is. Let me just say that I am looking forward to seeing you and, Louis, at our home tomorrow. Gemma is coming to pick you up mid day."

Des and Harry walk toward his car and Des looks over his shoulder. "Looks like your, your boyfriend is looking this way. You should go."

Harry says one thing which is all he can manage given how horrible his father has been from the time he was a small child. "Tomorrow." Harry says. He wishes he had kept Louis in bed all day.

Harry turns, trying to understand all of this. 

His father has just acknowledged Louis. As his boyfriend. As a person. Even as a person who might be good, loved, better at sports than his own son. His father has acknowledged unrelated evils he's perpetrated from the beginning. Harry doesn't want to go to Cheshire. He wants to take Louis and run away. Go live in the mountains like Will, away from all but a few neighbors. Just live for being with Louis. 

With Harry turning away saying nothing more they each take steps moving in opposite directions when Des calls back one last thing.

"Harry, this isn't easy for me. This won't be easy. But I love you."


	67. It's a world through a looking glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is me fucking with everyone...

After several days of bliss Harry and Louis Gemma arrives to drive them from Doncaster to Cheshire. As soon as the car pulls away from his house Louis falls asleep in the back seat tucked into Harry. This gives Harry opportunity to talk with his sister; share with Gemma some things about the past few days. Gemma has always been Harry's best buddy and his confidant. Their relationship is genuine and natural. Harry thinks he can tell Gemma anything. 

Harry shares with Gemma how Jay was reluctant to let Louis come to Cheshire. Understandably, Louis had been missing for so long and the Tomlinson's weren't ready to see him go. Furthermore, despite meeting Des, Jay still had some reservations. 

Although the reassurances Des offered, his regret seeming sincere, it was one thing for the Tomlinson's to holdback on charges for assault, and something entirely different to let for them to risk their son exposed to more risk in the home of the abuser. It was Louis pleading with Jay and Mark to be with Harry that won over. Eventually, reluctantly, Jay and Mark conceded. 

After Harry told his sister how Jay and Mark acknowledged that Louis was no longer a child, they supported him being with his boyfriend, Harry learns that conversations and events of the past few days at Louis', were not so different than those occurring at the Styles'. 

Gemma assures Harry that she and their mum had been vigilantly working with Des. It was hard for him but slowily Des was having to face the reality about Harry. Harry was coming of age of independence. His choices were his to make. Even more importantly Des was coming to understand the terms if their family was to stay together; Des would have to accept that Harry was gay and in love with Louis. 

Gemma's words were comforting to Harry. And yet, as the distance to Cheshire grew less and less, Harry is again experiencing more and more anxiety. He reflects on this. Eventually Harry reconcies new ideas about himself. These emotions are something that have plagued him since he was young, sexualized too early, used by a man he loved only to be cast aside.

Harry looks down at the pixie tucked into him like a child. Louis is soundly sleeping. Maybe because the night before they left Louis' home they filled their hours making love instead of sleeping and Louis is exhausted from it though the day is still young. Or maybe it's habit because Louis learned to sleep anywhere for survival in Nicaragua. Whatever the reason, Louis peaceful. He looks small and pretty. His face is serene like he's having the most pleasant of dreams. This gives Harry warm feeling of peace inside allowing him to think about what is ahead. 

Harry realizes the anxiety is the nearly the same type that struck him like a bolt of lightening when he first met Louis at the ranch. It was because Louis more than just pretty; he was open and warm. Playful and giving. Louis had no fear of being himself. That was disturbing to Harry because it was so appealing and seductive. Confidence in who one is. 

So why the growing panic now for Harry? He's going home with his lover at his side. Why so much fear? 

Harry's instinctually feels it because of his father. It has to be Des; any chance of lack of acceptance from his father's crushes him. It keeps Harry's recovery from abuse, the growth of his self esteem at bay. 

***

They arrive and from the very first moment in Cheshire things are strange. 

Strange? Or surreal. Surreal, Harry thinks, yes maybe sure, surreal. That is the only way to describe it because Des is not acting at all like the man who violently threw Louis across a room. 

He greets Louis in a normal fashion and quickly finds common ground talking about sports. 

Is this change in Des because of watching Louis play football? Harry isn't certain. Louis is hearing from Des stories about Des' youth, his prowess in rugby and on the rowing team when at Uni. These stories are mostly things Des has never bothered to share with Harry. Maybe because Harry was interested in only a few athletics, polo mostly, but not anything like the way Louis is about football. Perhaps Des thinks Louis is worthy of sports-talk and this is a diversion that works for Des. 

Oddly there is more to the new way Des is accepting Louis than that common sports bond. 

Afternoon tea time arrives and Des is quick and unharacteristcally willing to go help Anne put the serving tray together. It leaves Harry, Louis and Gemma alone for the first time time since they arrived. Gemma quickly enganges Louis about his sisters who she clealry adores since their one time together at Louis' welcome home party. Harry leaves them to chat, excuses himself to go to the loo. Waking through the hall Harry passes the kitchen where his parents are putting together the tray for tea. 

Harry hears it. So odd a comment that it shocks him stone cold. 

"...his lashes are so long, hard to believe they weren't false. If he were a girl..." 

Harry doesn't hear more. It's enough. 

His father is telling his mum about the beauty of Louis' lashes. What the fuck? Who does that? Certainly not someone who tried to kill the person with the lashes. Right? 

Harry returns to find his parents have rejoined his sister and boyfriend and the oddity of this scene gets worse. Harry watches Des do more strangely out of character things. 

It takes Harry back to how being around Louis at first at the ranch would make Harry freeze up. Because of Louis being someone Harry wanted acceptance from even before he knew it. 

There was just something about Louis back then which made every defense mechanism that Harry had turn back upon himself. He word choke, seize, loose his breath. More than once he felt nauseated. Many more times he was light-headed. Always it was because of Louis. Seeing Louis looking so pretty, a butterfly on his lashes, insects making him freeze like a mime, Louis licking honey from his fingers having spilled it on Harry "by accident". And, of course, so much more. All these adorable little things affected Harry. They rendered his defense by predatory sexual manipulation useless.

But the worst thing for Harry now, here at home, his home, with his family and for the first time since he knew his sexuality, with his boyfriend among his family ... 

The worst thing?

It was surreal because of his father. 

His father's reaction to Louis.

It was like Harry was seeing himself. This was not expected. It was not comfortable.

Anne and Gemma had gone through great effort to make things simple. 

Their plan for the first day was simple. It was obvious that Des clearly had a script. He had a box that he was to stay inside of. No exceptions. He was to do nothing to make Harry or Louis uncomfortable. Yet Harry finds Des being "friendly" with Louis irrtitating and inexplicable. 

Harry had the benefit of seeing his father secretly spying on them at the pitch the day before and confronting him. So all things considered, Harry had kept that in his mind. He tried to be open about his father being able to change. Perhaps all of this is driven by Louis' fitness. There was just something which made Harry uneasy. 

Des was acting maybe a little too much better at accepting Louis than Harry expected.

And sometimes Harry, only Harry, as he knew he was seeing everyone else, the other three continue normally, would catch Des doing a thing. 

It was...surreal.

Harry saw himself in his father. 

Des would hitch, glitch, arrest his breath if he caught a glimpse of the flutter of Louis' eyelashes. Something pretty about Louis, the little things would clearly strike Des and just make Des stutter. Or he'd loose his train of thought. To escape the captivating behaviors Des would look down, as if Louis was too delicate or pretty. Sometimes Des blatantly stared when Louis was talking with Anne or Gemma. Most disturbing of all Harry was when Harry sees how his father would loose his breath as he braved holding his stare at Louis. It was an expericne Harry's was very familiar with; what was unfathomable was how this was happening to father like son. 

Another thing Harry could not fathom was how his mum and his sister missed these things. Even given what seemed like a heartfelt confession and commitment by his father, Harry felt uncertain and suspicious of.

***

Harry wakes. It's a little after 2AM. Harry's not likening this arrangement. Something wrong about this, this, whatever woke Harry. The air itself is odd like it's a world through a looking glass. Harry is Alice and he's fallen.

At Louis' home they shared a room, a bed. It was a bed so tiny that Harry's feet stuck out. It should have been uncomfortable but to Harry it was paradise. By contrast here in the modest town house unlike the Styles' other home, a pastoral mansion with way too many rooms, Harry stilll finds his room is too expansive. The same could be said of Harry's room at his parents house in London. There too Harry had too much space. Maybe the emptiness of expansiveness is a mirage because Louis is sleeping far away in a room set aside for him. 

The problem is that particular guest room is right beside Harry's parent's room.

Harry and Louis were not to sleep together. It was a small concession requested of Harry and Louis. 

Consequence be dammed, harry misses having Louis beside him. Harry gets up from his bed and leaves his room. Doomed by this or not Harry doesn't even dress in a robe. He needs Louis and so he walks naked through the dark hall. 

Harry doesn't care about anything else. He's going to Louis, to make their bodies indistinguishably joined as one.

***

At the door to the guest room Louis occupies Harry pauses. 

What causes the pause?

He's not sure.

Harry leans in to take the doorknob in his hand, turns it quietly...

His father's voice arrests him from fully opening the door. 

Then it strikes Harry. 

The sound of Des' voice is not coming from behind him. It comes from within the guest room. Harry realizes this as he makes out the words being said.

"So pretty for daddy, so so pretty..."

Harry can't breathe. He pushes the door open only the slightest bit. Peering through a tiny a sliver opening of the door Harry is met with a shocking scene.

Candles are lit. Enough light illuminates the room so Harry can visualize plenty of details bathed in a warm, pleasing, glow.

The bed covers are cast to the floor. This had started some time earlier. Most of the candles have burned down significantly. The two bodies Harry sees are warmed, visibly shining wet with perspiration. But then Louis' body always has a honeyed radiance. He's breathtaking in this light.

Louis on the bed with his chest facing down, arms extended overhead. His hips are canted, his knees spread wide for stabilization and his precious bum is lifted, presented. One side of Louis' face is on the bed pointed away from Harry. Harry can't hear Louis but he absolutely can hear Des perfectly. Harry can also see all of his father with ease.

Des is on his knees positioned right behind Louis on the bed. He has one hand on Louis. It's sweeping over Louis' back and gropping Louis' ass like Des is overwhelmed by Louis presented for him and can't decide what to do. 

Des' other hand appears to be in.

Like. In Louis.

Confirming this Des pulls that hand away and he moves it up to Louis' diverted face where Des commands Louis like this is a repeat issue of a prior order. 

"Wet these again for Daddy so he can make you ready. You're still too tight."

Harry barely registers the instructions before he thinks he hears the sound of Louis eagerly slurping on Des' fingers making moist what he is offered like a dutiful, obedient boy. The only obstacle to hearing Louis' enthusiastic response to Des' command is the way Des' other hand continues sweeping over Louis' body and culminating each transverse with slaps on Louis' arse.

Louis slurps more vigorously. Des slaps. Des slaps again. He does this he like he is just encouraging a Louis who must be hungry for the punishing. Louis just becomes more loud with sucking on Des' fingers. Des praises him. Just like when Des noted Louis for effort on the pitch the day before Des words suggest that he is pleased with Louis being so vigorously committed. 

"Good boy, good boy. So perfectly swallowed Daddy's entire load and still so needy, sucks Daddy's fingers hoping for some more of big daddy. Wanting to make Daddy hard again. Pretty little whore wont rest until he has Daddy's cock in his pussy."

Satisfied or urgent, Harry can't be certain but Des whips his fingers away from Louis' mouth.

It clear, what Harry can see next. 

Des is a penultimate "daddy". 

It's more than Liam's in massive length and girth. 

It's a monster, the size of Des' cock. How had Harry never known this? Perhaps because he has never seen his father fully erect.

Holding his dick the spit-lubed fingers are shoved into Louis; a Louis that Harry knows will take it however, but a Louis who is also tiny, tight, pink and precious. Too precious for all that Des has. 

It's careless and unromantic this thing Des does as he plunges his fingers chaotically into Louis like prepping Louis is a bother, not a privilege. Clearly this action is caused by a condition Des is afflicted by. Daddy's giant dick, erect and needing, it doesn't wait for much pomp and circumstance.

Pulling the plunging fingers out, getting a whimper form Louis like he hoped...or needed...more prep, Des takes his cock in as he pulls one cheek of full, plump bum aside and pushes knob against Louis' opening.

Harry can't imagin why he is still there at the door. He's frozen, just locked in watching. Why hasn't he acted?.

A slap, harder than the others cracks like thunder on Louis' flesh and Harry thinks this noise wakes him from his shock of discovering his boyfriend and his father.

But then Louis moans words. Harry realizes his father is pushing in, breaking through the rim. There's no ceremony just want.

They want it.

Both of them.

Louis' moan is clear.

"Give it to me big Daddy. Give me that cock. M'such a naughty slutty boy..."

Harry hears Louis gasp and murmur "ooohhh" before continuing on with his request. 

"...punish me. Punish me for playing with Daddy's little curly prince. Rip me open so ..."

Harry can't image what would have come out of Louis' mouth next because Louis choaked like the cock that entered him drove immeasurably deep. It may have pushed too far.

Harry can see his father isn't a kind lover, but Des clearly likes what he feels. Des acts immediately to seek his pleasure. 

Des needs no hands to assist keeping his massive dick from slipping out. He grabs a handful of Louis' hair and pulls Louis' head up and back, making Louis' body come into a reverse arch. Des stabilizes Louis with a hand gripping deep into Louis' hip. With one hand pulling on Louis' hair and one bruising flesh where it holds his hip, Des begins pumolting into Louis with fast, filling thrusts on each drive.

Louis looks so good with his body pulled in a sort of seductive s-curve, legs spread, arms extended yet still hardly able to keep himself up for the punishment he's taking.

"Tell me sweet little daddy's pussy boy, how do you like the taste of my cock? You feel me hit the back of your throat?"

Des is consumed after his questions with pursuit of hitting harder and harder. Louis moans like Des' fucking him is the edge of pain. It's a voice Louis speaks to Des with that Harry knows, or so Harry thinks. It's the sound of Louis when he is being wrecked and loving it.

"Fill me Daddy...funk, funk, f-f-fill me ....."

Inspired, Des hits harder with each trust. Harry can see it. He can hear it. The sound of his father's pelvis slappping into Louis' luscious bum. 

Louis begs and "oohhs" among gasps and whines nearing expression of pain. The grip Des' has in Louis' hair has Louis' throat exposed. Louis' back is so forcibly curved by Des' hold on Louis' hair such that his bum looks more proned for taking cock than Harry ever thought possible. Maybe it's to accommodate Des because he seems to hold Louis such that he can pull out an entire foot-length of his dick and still have the head of his cock in Louis' sweet hole without having to use a hand to assist reentering.

Once Des seats himself deep and changes so he keeps his thrusts short and pointedly hitting somewhere new and deep. Louis responds to this change as he begins ejaculating on each inward pulse Des makes. Every thrust Des makes milks a rope of cum from Louis. 

Louis barely finsihes this orgasm before Des flips Louis with ease and takes Louis' pretty cock in hand. Even with the dim light it is obvious. Des sucks Louis off to finish the last few unexpelled drops. Des makes a sound of delight as he slurps.

"Such Daddy's princess," Harry hears Des say when he pops off. "So sweet the taste of you."

It was a hasty stripping from Louis of what might have been unexpressed, but Des is not done there. 

Des lifts one leg such that Louis was formed in a scissored twist. Immediately Des pushes himself back in to fill Louis with his still harden cock. 

One of Des' hands pushes Louis' head to the side and he shoves fingers into Louis' mouth saying "suck" as he resumes punishing thrusts again while using his shoulder to keep Louis' leg raised, Louis forcibly spread. 

Louis sucks on Des' fingers and he whines.

Maybe he is sensitive and protesting the penetration but Harry fears what he knows it is not that. 

Louis likes being fucked right after coming. He likes being pushed. He likes being milked through orgasm after orgasm. 

"Beg for me to come." Des says and he pulls his fingers from Louis' mouth. "Beg for me to fill you with my cum!"

Des slaps Louis on his face before Louis has a chance to commit a sound. Des shouts his order again as he slaps Louis harder, "B-E-G! You pretty little slut!"

If Louis obliges it can't be heard because Des is instantly shouting out his pleasure and he changes his pulses to pinning thrusts that make split second hold deep with terminated at each extension of his penetration. With that Des looses himself.He is coming inside Louis. Harry's Louis.

Through all of this Louis has not once used his hands to push Des away. 

When Louis was seen first by Harry with his chest down, bottom up he took Des with his arms used to give him support. Des flipped him and split him and again Louis had his arms such that he could give himself leverage to take it again. Take Des, Louis was doing, as willing as one could. 

Des commitment to resuming fucking Louis after Louis came didn't dismiss and shrivel Louis' pretty little prick. It made the Louis wantingly hard again like this feeling of being used is needed and completely wanted, taking Louis to an inevitable second orgasm.

Harry can see Louis is willing participating and accepting of this and Harry feels this rage. 

In Harry's mind his rage reminds him of when he and Louis were caught in the act by Des and the others at the hotel in San Quan del Sur. In a split second the idea of Des seeing them as Louis was about to sit himself down on Harry's erection the most surreal thing happens. Like Harry and his father are of one mind. 

Des shifts again. He takes a position reclined on the bed and picks Louis up with ease, large hands lifting Louis by his tiny waist. 

Des puts Louis over him so Louis is coming to balance himself on his knees with a Des between his legs under him. 

And so it becomes a reality. This is the same thing Des saw, but now it's Harry doing the watching; the thing Harry is witnessing is exactly a remake of the position as Harry and Louis were discovered when Des burst through the door to stop them. In their case Louis never got to ride Harry. 

Inconceivable as this is, rage building in Harry, penetration is not everted. Des has hands on Louis' hips to stabilize Louis as he coos for Louis to take take. Louis makes no waste of time to bring his hand to Des' dick and put the knob to his hole. It's a lot of length and Louis takes it slow. Des is encouraging him and at six inches deep Louis does that thing he knows Louis does when he's truly loving riding dick. 

Harry has seen it too many times. Louis riding cock is so goergoeus. He drops his head back and rolls his hips. The undulation is exquisite as it the view of Louis' throat exposed, skin glistening adds the intensity makeing it near impossible to avoid immediate orgasm and just enjoy the ride. 

Rage fills Harry. Rage like his father must have felt. Harry needs to wrap his hands around Louis' perfect throat and choke him. Murderous satisfaction is all he can see to end this betrayal. 

Harry steps forward. Through the door he releases, letting it drift open on its own because Harry is no longer lock in shock, afraid to enter.

It's one step.

He's eyes are fixed on the two and somehow with his step they fade. 

His foot feels weird and unnatural on the floor. Harry's leg feels heavy. 

He makes his move more overtly and without cause Harry falls.

***

Face plant onto the floor. Harry realizes he is in his room, haven landed on his bedroom floor. 

It's dark. 

He literally took a step in a nightmare and fell out of his bed.

Driven by a bad dream, Harry finds his circulation first, then his senses and finally he gets up off the floor and leaves his room. 

That was a dream? 

Fear that it wasn't fills Harry as he makes his way down the hall. His heart still racing.

Their home is large, he gets to the guest room that Louis was given for the stay and Harry's afraid. 

Afraid to open the door and discover that what was in his head is not a dream. Harry is so afraid that he is breathing loudly. He fears he has woken the entire house and he'll be discovered. 

Turning the doorknob quietly Harry finds a dark room, no candles. He lets his eyes adjust from subtle light coming in from the lamps outside before he moves. 

Once he's in the room with the door softly closed behind him he can hear Louis' breathing. It's a sound he's slept to at the Tomlinson's and he knows it well. Louis is soundly asleep.

Harry reaches the bed and though he knows he shouldn't, he slips under covers to find his boy with his arms.

Harry has no sooner pulled Louis into him drinking in Louis' scent then he hears a soft, sleepy, slurred welcome. "Curly m'so glad you..." 

The rest of it is muffled. It's clear Louis is happy Harry is with him. Words Harry could decipher don't matter since Louis makes his bum wiggle pressing back into Harry's pelvis so Harry's cock finds a pleasant nest. This is heaven. This is his Louis. The other thing was nothing but a horrible nightmare, a relic of Harry's wounds, something he'd have to learn to deal with in time. 

Damage done to one so young never heals so fast or with much such ease. But maybe if the victim has a life time.

Harry drifts to sleep. Dreams become pleasant ones; replays of times together at Bar 3, dreams of things Harry wants to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not actually! The fuckery is just to say that healing is never easy or a straight line. There are hazards along the way. Harry has demons. But I promise a happy love story for a new year!


	68. Cheshire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Transfer to the Styles'. How everyone is coping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so rough editing...too many people around and seasonal things. Will spice up the edits in time. Happy holidays...kiss the one you love!

"...his lashes are so insanely long, hard to believe they weren't false...if he were a girl..." Des is saying to Anne as they gather small cakes, wafers and make tea. Making the tea together is an excuse. They needed to talk away from the Harry, Louis and Gemma.

This is the exact same comment Des said to Anne about Louis yesterday which the first day when Harry and Louis were newly transferred to the Styles' Cheshire home. 

It's day two of the their son and his boyfriend being with them. For all, it's an adjustment. For Des who seems to be effectively using shared interests in sports as a common ground to bridge a gap between he and Louis, things were going well so far, mostly. There was just this one thing. 

Anne's big concern was how overtly flustered Des became occasionally, which as he is explaining, happens when Louis looks a certain way. There's an angle at which a Des takes in the lushness of Louis' lashes and the cut of Louis' features, his cheekbones, and then if his lashes flutter, it's all over. It's in those instances when Des will lose his composure. He stammers, he blinks, he is blinded by this. As Anne and Des gather the elements of for afternoon tea Anne presses Des for an explanation. Des tries to explain to his wife that when he's looking at a boy with features more commonly considered girly, this eyelashes-thing trips him. 

Admittedly though, as Anne considers, Des is doing far better than Anne expected. The visit Des made to the Tomlinson's two days prior was effective. For Des to meet the Tomlinsons had made Louis a person and not just some random, deviant. Therefore, day two of the two lads at the Styles home is going pretty well for Des. Problem is that Anne is still concerned. She sees something in Harry after the young couples' first day that she recognizes as a darkness or an unhappiness. Anne isn't sure why. She just knows she has to try to dissect it. She thinks it could be Des getting strange sometimes in his reaction to Louis despite his best efforts and how that might be what affects Harry. . 

*** 

From the time they got back to England the difficulty for Anne never had to do with a decision to leave her son, still a minor by most occunts, with his lover, almost still a boy himself and with the lad's family who she'd never met before this recent mix of unexpected events through them together. Anne needed to do that, entrust Harry's well being so she could work on a larger issue. With Harry safe Anne's focus needed the time to prepare for what might be a marriage-ending confrontation when her husband returned, joining her at home in the absence of their son and the catalysis of his gay lover. 

It seemed somehow right on some deep maternal-knowing level to entrust Harry's well being was best served being with his boyfriend. Particularly following the revelations that came about with the trauma both suffered. However, as she had so much uncertainty ahead about confronting her husband the one thing Anne was convinced of was that Harry needed most to be with Louis. She wasn't entirely certain why. Again it was that maternal thing. Anne was trusting her gut. 

In the time between leaving the two young lovers together in Doncaster and the start of her processing what is next with her and Des she ran through many thoughts in her mind. Was she prepared to end her relationship of years so her son could start his? 

Some of Anne's fears were concerns, some were equations or calculations, others were random questions. Harry and Louis were so young, could this be a fling like most teens experience as first love? Would it be foolish to put her own long-standing relationship on the line for two people so young and so inexperienced? Who could ever know by looking at the two boys that Louis was two years older? By all accounts he was the same age as her son. Maybe Louis seems like such a perennial child because unlike Harry he was allowed the luxury of childhood in a more idea setting than she and Des had provided for Harry. Unlike her child's home life, Louis' had been a mostly open and supportive family. The Tomlinson family being so lovely made Anne convinced it was best to let the two youth recover among a warm, loving family while she addressed her problems that she had in her family. Problems with her husband beyond what Anne previously imagined.

Therefore while Harry was in Doncaster Anne and Des spent a few days intensely discussing their future together. Anne had had reached an ending point with tolerating Des' overly dominating style after he assaulted Louis, the delicate man-child, pixie, their son's long lost lover and a complete surprise for them miraculously waiting in San Juan del Sur. This relationship had been unknown to them until the fateful travel to a foreign country and a chanced meeting that coincidently, like fate again, spared their son's life from drowning. Des' reaction to the discovery of his son's orientation was symbolic of all that was bad about being a partner to him. 

After years together Anne had reached a breaking point in their marriage at that moment. It was more than Des' violent outburst; his elitist, arrogant and complete disregard for others. It was how Des had been manipulative and deceitful. It wasn't easy to let go of transgressions like stealing Harry's personal mail. It was even harder to accept a man who was always on the edge of some rage because he couldn't control the affairs of those around him. 

Once Des joined Anne at home having traveled a few days behind her and the kids, Anne began thinking over her life. Her son was safe with his boyfriend and she had a few days and a very wise for-her-age daughter to process what happens next. Would she give Des another chance? 

Ultimately Anne decided she was going to give Des the opportunity to break from bad choices. After terms were set Des went to see if he could apologize to Louis' family. Step one. Get the Tomlinson's permission to try to make amends. 

Step two. Have the young couple join them at their home where Des began the work of learning acceptance. 

Remarkably Des was doing quite well. Anne was quick to compliment Des for getting through much of the first day. She new this was very hard for Des. Learning to accept their son was not...like the father, not close to being at all like Des, and also Des demonstratively working at accepting Louis as the lover Harry chose.

And so it was that here on day two that Anne is commenting how pleased she is to see Des embracing common ground with Louis, Des speaking with Louis a lot about shared interests in sports. Sports is a subject area that Des has never shared much camaraderie with his own son. This conversation about how well that strategy of talking football with Louis is working drifts to Anne addressing the weird allfiction she notices that Des occasionally experiences when he is talking directly to Louis. Anne presumes she alone is noticing the behaviors, but it is a worry that Harry and Louis would pick up on it too which makes her confront Des about it so he can correct it early. 

"It's just too strange Des. If I didn't know you, I would be really confused. You just seem to, well, act very strange. You do this stunned-pause thing sometimes and it's awkward. Why do you do that?"

Des tries to explain it.

"Anne, I thought I'd be fine. You know, I went to see the Tomlinson's and, like we discussed, I tried to aplogize for what I did in that hotel. Ask for a chance of their trust. They were so warm and lovely. I could see they weren't completely ready to accept my apology but they seemed sincerely wanting to trust me to change. I was leaving and Mark Tomlinson walked me out. We talked alone away from Jay who was very guarded about trusting me to remain unthreatening with her son. It was helpful to hear this story Mark wanted to share privately, away from the girls. I think the story is something about his family that even his wife doesn't know."

"The story Mark shared was about a brother of his. His family never talks about it but Mark said his brother's death was a tragedy that tore the entire family apart. Apparently it was susicide, though Mark said he isn't sure, it had been labeled accidental death. Growing up he never knew the truth. His mother, Mark believes, would still be living too if it were not for the pain of the loss of her eldest son. It was after her death that Mark discovered some secrets, letters his brother had written years before to their mum. Mark discovered in reading them that his brother had been gay. To this day his father, Keith, who is very active and close to the five children, doesn't know his deceased son was a homosexual. Keith is very homophobic. Then Mark told me how when he and Jay were married, he was so proud to adopt Louis, a very sweet child, as his son. They had Charlotte after a few years of marriage. Then Felicite came along. By the time the twins were born is was evident how Louis was a little different than most boys. Mark confided that a being father to Louis gives him the chance to right a wrong. He couldn't bring his brother back but he could protect Louis from shame and prejudice. He'll never let anything jeopardize Louis' safety, even ask Louis to be what is he is not." 

"I left the Tomlinson's feeling the weight of Mark's story. He tipped me off where Louis and Harry might be so I could see Harry before leaving Doncaster. Mark correctly guessed that Louis broke the rules his mother set aside for healing and was at a field playing a game of footy. Mark specifically described Louis as "all too boy" to ever pass a chance to play with his mates even if he is bruised and sore. Mark gave me the address to the field. I went there because like Mark expected I knew I had to see Louis again in a neutral environment before he came into my home. I had to decide before he was at risk if I could see him as a person and not some gay freak misleading my son with his deviant lifestyle. At the field I watched a long time from afar as this group of lads played. Harry sat on the side unable to join with his broken ankle. He was alone, I let him be as I watched and watch and I studied Louis."

"My conversation with him, um Louis, since they got here has been honest and sincere. From watching him play on that field I could see who he is. He clearly has a very competitive, fierce heart. There's so much passion for everything he does. He commits fully, bravely. When I think about it that, it is a very admirable quality. He's fearless. He's so small but he's got this big drive to succeed with everything he cares about. A game, being a brother, a...friend. Too bad Harry has never had that kind of drive. Really, Harry actually could do well to be a bit more like Louis. But it's just that, with Louis, this one thing still seems weird to me when I'm close to him..."

"...it's his lashes. His cheekbones. The way he delicately covers his mouth when he giggles. It's the way he does that other thing too, you know that thing with his hands. Anne you know, the gay-wrist thing."

Anne stands in the kitchen looking at her husband. It's nonsensical. He is both amazing in the strides he's making and infuriating for all the depth he still can't understand.

She's trying to think of how to respond to the the last few words. Des said "the gay-wrist thing". 

"What 'gay wrist thing'"? She says flabbergasted. 

Anne is simultaneously thinking she wants to take a heavy iron skillet to the side of Des' head to knock some sense into it as she also thinks she wants to patient and loving. Remarkably, for the most part, Des has come so far.

But it's still not nearly far enough. She too worries about suicide rates being so much higher in teens, particularly teens identifying as non-het. The sharing of Mark's story is haunting. Anne had never considered something as traumatic as that as possible in her family. And with Harry's oddness in the early part of the day, she worries for the first time. There is something troubling Harry.

Anne is about to reply to Des when she thinks she caught a glance of Harry passing the open door of the kitchen as he walks through the hall. Anne knows Harry might have heard some of their talk. Then again, maybe it is her imagination. She decides to respond neutral. Baby steps. It's only the first day. 

"Des you are exhausting me with this. Gemma and I have been telling you over and over. You have to try to listen. Do you understand how damaging stereotypes are? You've been telling me how Louis is this super-determined athlete. And yet you spin around and say his lashes are too long, or his hands do this wrist-thing. What next? His bum is too big?"

Anne slips into anger, her ability to give more patience to Des is waning. This is clear for him to see. Her actions in the kitchen are now sharp and deliberate. If she's not careful she will surely demolish the fine tea servings which are hand painted and go back several generations as heirlooms in the Styles' family. 

Des is watching her abrupt actions as she puts the tray together. He hopes the dishes survive so he's not really paying close attention to her words but Anne puts it out there with her disposition worn by Des' reveal.

"I mean Des, like for example, his bum? Really? Do you think no one noticed that when Louis stood up and pulled his phone from his pocket how you looked at him? I know, he twisted around and that made his tiny waist and his, um bum, look so sculpted in silhouette. He left the room to talk briefly in the hall and you stared at his arse the entire way as he walked out. Do you think no one noticed? I'm not sure but I think you've been giving Harry great cause for concern because you are acting so stupid and weird. That is why I gave you the secret signal to come with me to the kitchen now. It's like Gemma and I tried to do in the past few days of prepping you, I'm trying to tell you. You have to stop being a homophobic idiot."

The talk went on for a few more minutes. Anne gave Des a massive dose of tough-love. The very story he told about Mark's family, what happened and how it impacted the Tomlinson's was what Anne said should be evidence enough. Bigotry takes more than the lives of the victims it takes the entire family.

Anne's last words as the took the tea to rejoin the three young people were direct.

"Just stop acting so strange or you'll give your son horrible nightmares..."

***

It's day three at the Styles'. Gemma is taping on the door softly. The sound of her knock Harry recognizes. From thousands of times as kids going to each others rooms, Gemma's knock is a a sound of comfort. Harry welcomes it. He moves Louis off of him because morning found them wrapped as one. Somehow they had shifted so Louis was no longer asleep with his bum pressed into Harry's pelvis but instead he was spooning Harry. 

At the door Harry is greeted by Gemma as he expected. She whispers.

"Thought you'd be in here. You need to get out of this room. They are up, I heard them. If you're discovered in his room you will make things really bad. You have to give this time, Harry. You can't ask our narrow-minded father to change everything overnight. It takes time. Baby steps Harry, baby steps."

Harry reluctantly looks back to the bed. Thought of closing the door to the world and simply rejoining Louis is so warm and inviting. Harry misses how every morning at the Tomlinson's were theirs for lovemaking. Harry is even sporting a nice semi just by his bodY's connection to the routine. 

But Gemma is right. Pulling the sheet he has draped around his waist a little tighter Harry hopes his sister didn't notice his slight erection and he joins her the hall, quietly closing the door on his sleeping lover. 

*** 

Bad dreams would plague Harry for the next couple of nights. While Louis was looking more and more rested, his bruises faded such that signs of his injuries were nearly gone, Harry was still limping in his protective boot and relying on his crutches. Furthermore he is beginning to develop dark circles under his eyes. Healing of his broken ankle seemed impeded too, like a cancer was upon him, he used his crutches more awkwardly. Harry seemed litheless and distracted. When pressed by Anne or Gemma it was impossible for Harry to explain his behavior. How could he tell them about his dreams? How could Harry tell them he saw a transformation in his father of acceptance of Louis but this only made his fears worse. 

Anne took from her son's deepening appearance of grim that something was wearing on him. Harry's eyes had become the shade of green suggesting citrine which his mother knew meant he wasn't sleeping well. She decided without any counsel that the two boys should get on to London and made this announcement without discussion with Des. First however they had to get through a couple more days of pretending to be a functional, happy family. 

As they prepared to go out for dinner in town at a nice restaurant, Anne told Des she wanted to send the lads off to London and get them on to doing things like the peers would be doing. Enrolling in uni. Working. Living independently. 

Des choked back his concerns. Harry should be another year at home at least, but Anne was insistent. Accepting because of the stakes, Des refrains from protest and the two go to the foyer of their estate where the sound of youthful voices suggested that Gemma, Harry and Louis were dressed for a night of fine dining and already waiting for them.

As they took the last few steps to the ground floor Des was relieved at first.

He'd been fearing they'd find Louis prepared for a diner out dressed like some hipster gay fag of the worse sort imaginable. Des didn't even know what that would be. He just feared it. 

But there at the door was Gemma who was as always impeccably dressed tastefully in a modest cocktail dress holding a lizard clutch to accent her perfect choice of dress. Beside her lively talking with her waiting for their family to gather for going out to diner was Louis.

He is looking smashing.

Louis wears his hair styled different than the messy fringe Des was accustom to seeing since Louis arrived in their home. On this night Louis' hair is off his face in a modest quif. He wears a dark tee under a black jacket. The t-shirt looked like it was embroidered or embellished but it was an illusion of tiled-like screen printing of patterns in blues and greys running across the chest region of his shirt. Louis slacks are black jeans and, like all the pants Louis wore, they are very fitted. His shoes are simple black dress shoes and he has socks on that have a herringbone effect that played well with his tee shirt and it's tile-pattern illusion. All in all Louis looks like a fashionable young man, very boy, stylish but not gay. His appearance is to Des' liking. 

Des was in a word, relived.

Until.

Des looks up the stairs to see Harry who is slowly coming down them last hobbling with his boot and crutches.

Harry reaches the foyer, walks over and stands beside Louis looking a bit nervous. Des catches a glimpse of the idea that Louis reassured Harry by slightly glazing the back of his hand angainst the back of Harry's and a brief contact of blue eyes to green before they both look expectantly at the waiting parents. Des' thought? 

Was Harry really going out dressed like that?

It wasn't the hat Harry wore. 

Or the shiny metallic paddock boot that Harry wore on his uninjured foot.

Okay, maybe the shoe added to it.

But the shirt? Yes, it is definitely the shirt.

Really???

Harry stands next to Louis wearing a floral shirt. The slacks are fine, the jacket is fine. The hat not so great. The shoe, questionable. But the shirt? The unbuttoned to mid torso shirt!

It is floral.

And sheer. Very, very sheer!

Remove the jacket and one could easily see his...nipples...his belly button...all of it.

Really?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheshire instead of Holmes Chaple for a reason. If you can you must read another authors works, for whom this is credit to, you should see if you can find them.


	69. Fashionista Styles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!
> 
> Some Larry smut to start the year!

The night of their dinner out cemented Harry's nightmares. 

He wakes from one that night following the dinner affair drenched in sweat because again he dreamed that in this house on this night that his father is in another room fucking his boyfriend. 

Getting up Harry slips out of his room and goes down the hall and into Louis'. Like every night he finds Louis sleeping soundly, warm and untouched. Within a split second of sensing Harry's form Louis' melts into him. Harry's fears fade and he thinks sleep.

It is hard to relax because the events at the restaurant earlier that evening permeate Harry's brain. 

At dinner Des wouldn't look at Harry. Everyone knew it was because he couldn't. He talked to Anne, Gemma, and Louis...about sports. 

The restaurant they went to was well known for its excellent food so many of the social set that Des and Anne circulate with were there. Des introduced Louis without defining who Louis was to the family and held to refraining from ever looking at his son even when referring Harry in conversation. 

As the night rolled on it became increasingly obvious that while the fine dining presentation of courses was slow to unfold, most the locals who were the elite class of friends with the Styles were not slow. Not stupid.

The Styles' friends hung at introduction to Louis. Who was Louis relative to the Styles? 

This clearly affected Des. 

Constantly he waited for the sign indicating people found Louis "too gay".

This didn't happen.

What was the thing that was happening was that friends, f a m i l y friends, l o n g-s t a n d i n g family friends, gawked. Not at Louis. The one they gawked at was Harry. Des pretended he didn't notice. These friends could see Harry's exposed body. Buttons undone half way to his waist, his shirt fashioned of a sheer floral fabric revealing nipples---as if one or the other nip weren't falling out each time Harry moved because of how deeply unbutton his shirt revealed even more of his body. Well, it was a bit much for Des.

Des kept his eyes diverted. He gulped his drink. He slumped. He tried to endure.

Meanwhile Anne and Gemma shrugged off the reaction to Harry and tried to act, what's the word...n o r m a l.

The saving grace, through all of this at their table of societal hell?

It was Louis. Louis smiled with a warm contagiousness. He beamed charm. He did this subtly but he found a way time and time again with each trolling passer by to charm them into talk of themselves. Next thing one knew they were talking about their families, their day golfing, showing new grandbabby pictures and in every case walking off unabsorbed with need for gossip about the easily captivating Harry Styles, fashionista of Cheshire. Thankfully, so it seemed all of the old-guard acquaintances of the Styles' found Louis adorable, everybody loved Louis. 

...

After a dinner that took hours the tab was paid. 

Harry had gone to the men's. Everyone was waiting for him to return. 

Des was tapping on the table with his yet unstored credit card and pretending he could ignore the promise of gossip that would surely hit his family like a fire storm at their local club after the display tonight in the form of Harry's attire. 

Everyone pretended not to check the clock.

Time ticked on. And on.

Finally Des looked at Louis and asked. 

"Louis, could you be a love and go see what is keeping Harry?"

Anne and Gemma nearly fell from their chairs. ... Could Louis be a "love"?

Louis looks stunned too at the word. He chokes then asks Des, "How long, um how long do I have?"

Gemma nearly sputtered at the unintended double meaning. She's been pulling Harry from Louis' room every morning. She's pretty sure the two have not been doing, ...whatever, but she feels the palpable stress and she thinks it's likely that, yeah. So being the amazing sister that she is Gemma jumps in.

"Take your time. You know, my car is ready from service, we didn't pick it up. Maybe the three of us could go on home and Harry and Louis can bring mine home saving me having to get a ride into town to collect it tomorrow?" 

Adding emphasis to this Gemma pulls the keys for her convertible BMW coupe from her small clutch and hands them to Louis. "Be a love" she says with a wink to Louis, emphasis on "love", mocking her father, "you and Harry bring it home. The motor shop Harry knows, it's just two blocks over."

With that Gemma, Anne and Des erupt to their feet. They equally abruptly leave the restaurant. 

...

Louis enters the men's room and he's thankful it's late enough the old man attendant has abandoned his post for the evening because it's too late to be on a break. Two men who are patrons of the restaurant are visible. One is at the sink washing his hands. The other is at a urinal. The man washing his hands at the sinks smiles at Louis. It's obvious he's in no hurry to leave. The hand-washer is adjusting his tie as Louis goes to an open urinal. He knows by the mix-matched foot wear that Harry is in one of the restroom stalls with the door closed. 

Reliving himself Louis is aware the second man at the urinal down from him is needlessly dallying too. Louis doesn't look at him, that goes against addicate. But he knows the man is watching him, periferally. 

As Louis shakes off the last drop he thinks. Louis knows Harry is in the midddle stall of a row of three inclosed toilets. Maybe he can sense Harry is hiding for a reason. Louis isn't sure. What he is sure of is that these two men, both 35-40 years of age aren't standing around for no reason. It strikes him that perhaps they are the reason Harry is hiding.

Harry's vulnerability in reacting to attracting men's attention is not normal for Harry. The Harry he tamed was a bold and predatory thing. This timid behavior happening tonight was against Harry's natural way of being. A year ago Harry would never be found hiding from two attractive men who clearly are wanting to hook up with him, but then again, Louis senses it's this time they have been spending in Harry's home town. The draining, the emotional pulling. How does one become something their not to please a relative and yet be who they are so they can be free and live when the two challenges are in contradiction? Closeted, hiding, play a role. It takes its toll. Right now Harry is sequestering himself from the public because he is afraid of his childhood demon. He's afraid of his father's disappointment. It's made worse because it's here in his hometown where his heart was broken. It dawns on Louis these men are likely the same age as the abusive teacher. Maybe, attractive or not, one of them even looks like that man.

Louis goes to the sink and washes his hands. He makes his time. The man who was at the urinal when he entered joins Louis and the other man at the sink. Louis is flanked by the two of them. He's aware they exchange glances with each other because they are working as a team. One of them even looks back at the wall behind them where the mirror on the wall their reflects their three forms back to him. Louis is certain this was an attempt to scope out Louis' bum. Most certainly these men are players. Bold, confident players. But Louis is not Harry. He's bold too and has no childhood phantoms plaguing him in this town. Louis dries his hands and then he turns to the more assured-looking, larger-statured of the two. 

Louis blue eyes stare directly and confidently into the eyes of the much larger and more muscular man. Throwing a hand on a hip that he juts out ever so slight Louis sasses out a statement as if the they have been engaged in conversation all along. "I'm going to join that insanely hot lad in there," Louis says nodding toward Harry's stall. 

"I'm going to fuck him, and it might get a bit loud, so be a chum, you and your boy here, keep other patrons out for a few minutes will you. Be a sport."

Louis finishes his statement delivered in a diminishing, sassy tone as he adjusts his hair and gives a no-yield air of confidence.

The two men much older, more experienced, very fit, obviously successful in their careers swallow their pride and dismis themselves.

...

Louis knocks on the stall door.

It swings open.

Exasperated, Harry looks at Louis astonished.

"How did you do that?"

Louis doesn't answer. He slips into the stall and his hands thread into Harry's hair. 

Harry's hands go around his waist and their foreheads drop into each other's. Full, soft lips crush into Louis'. Louis licks his tongue into Harry's mouth deepening the kiss and Harry whines his expression of desire. 

It's a minute of them gripping each other, kissing and pressing to each other like that before Louis begins a feverish work with his hands. He drops his pants completely off, stepping out of his shoes. He unfastens Harry's pants and tugs them low enough to free Harry's dick. Hastily Louis climbs up on the seat of the toilet and wraps his legs around Harry's waist. With arms on Harry's shoulders he commands.

"This is our chance. You need to fuck me, here in this stall, against this wall. No time for romance."

...

Harry has had too many dreams of his father punishingly taking Louis in the night's they had been at his home. Also Harry has too many visions in his head of Louis fighting off men in Nicaragua to counter Greg's malignment of him. These images in his mind make it impossible to do what Louis says; Harry can not take Louis unprepared and raw even now that it's been days since they made love and Harry needs Louis. Harry can't neglect Louis as his lover; he can't make Louis be just a thing. 

Harry puts Louis' down, making sure Louis' feet come to rest on the toilet bowl rim and he attempts to turn Louis around on this unforgiving pedestal. Wanting Louis or not, Harry simply couldn't go with a unprepped forcing his engorging cock into Louis despite how Louis was clearly positioning himself for Harry's taking if Harry so chose.

This act of shifting his lover nearly sends Louis' feet sliding into the toilet bowl, but Louis catches himself by gripping the back wall of the stall and the incoming water pipes that feed fresh water the toilet tank.

Harry gently pushes Louis' torso downand toward the wall and pulls Louis' bum toward him. Next Harry takes a centering breath. What Harry's tiny, lion Louis did chasing off two larger interlopers makes Harry want his lover like never before. Nevertheless this needs to be a good, really good, for Louis too.

Harry spits on Louis' hole once he exposes it as he spreads the firm, luscious cheeks. He inserts his second digit of one hand inside Louis with only the slick of the spit. Harry only stops pushing his finger in when his bulky ring hits Louis' entrance impeding any deeper penetration. Maybe the ring is cold or maybe it's metal feel is exciting because Louis shivers and he grasps tighter onto the pipes that run the back wall which service the toilet with water. Louis moans from the penertation like it's pleasing and he pushes back onto Harry's finger. Harry smiles he thinks he may have found a new kink because maybe Louis likes the sensation of a lover's ring pressing against his rim. Maybe it makes things more...

Harry pulls out his finger and plunges it in again and again taking his ring to the entrance of Louis' hole. Louis moans and dips his upper body deeper down to be more presented for Harry and once again pushes his bum back to press against Harry's adorned, penetrating finger. Harry hears Louis' breathing become more rapid. 

Harry can't resist.

Harry bites one bum cheek leaving a mark and sucks a marking bruise on the other. Both lush cheeks so marked, Harry's finger remains pressed deeply penetrating into Louis. It seem like this one finger is almost pinning Louis there. Harry admires the brands he's left on Louis' arse. He licks into lap along the intercept of his ring and where it presses against the sensitive skin of Louis' entrance. Harry isn't sure with the ring pressed so tight or just that it's been days since they've done something like this but he thinks he feels Louis' hole quiver. He hears Louis pant his name. It's a "Haz, haz, haz.. " gasps and pants. 

Harry pulls his finger out and he slips it up Louis to trap Louis' hair. Pulling Louis' head back he commands again. "Suck this off." Louis accepts the finger which was moments ago buried in his ass and he does Harry's command. He whimpers and he sucks the finger, pulling the ring from it with his mouth.

The instant the ring is transferred to Louis' mouth the finger is pulled away and Harry spits agin on Louis' arse again before he delves the two middle fingers of that hand into Louis with a deep and forcefull insertion. Louis only can mumble. He's holding Harry's ring in his mouth and he has an open toilet bowl below him where he is struggling to stand and which has a slippery surface because at least one of his feet still has a sock on it. His body shivers with the repeated plunging of two fingers that also twist and plunge nearly grazing his sweet spot. His hole remains tight on Harry's fingers but his backward push into the twists and plunges suggest he wants more. Harry is so close to hitting Louis' deep inside such that he will drawl out an orgasm. 

Harry enjoys Louis responsiveness. The way he is clamoring to hold on his position. For torment, Harry nips and bites Louis' bum and his other hand reaches to traps Louis' cock in a firm grip. It's pleasingly hard. One tug on it though and Louis' knees nearly give out.

Harry gives a few more firm fast tugs to Louis' dick before he feels precum so he abandons this action and slides his entire arm around Louis' waist to pull Louis from standing on the seat of the toilet to stand on the floor. Through this Harry keeps his two fingers buried in Louis and he's sure this impales Louis someplace perfect because Louis gasps and repeats "ohhh, Haz..," between the gasping breaths. 

With Louis' feet firmly on the floor, his knees are now more stable, Harry releases his hold at Louis' waist and uses his hand to turn Louis' face his so they can kiss over Louis' shoulder. Amid the kiss Harry's tongue finds his ring and the ring is exchanged. Harry releases Louis' waist so he can use that hand to take the ring from his own mouth and put it aside. Then Harry resumes kissing Louis, his hand back maintaining Louis' twist by holding Louis' jaw and all the while he keeps his pressure with his impaling fingers making Louis writhe from their pleasing penetrations.

Harry knows Louis is near coming. He can feel it with the trembles of Louis' body. He can see how Louis is grasping tightly the pipes along the wall for support. He can hear the slur of Louis' profanity between their kiss as Louis breakingly asks for more and presses harder onto Harry's fingers.

Unwilling to wait, Harry pulls his fingers out and spins Louis around to face him. Louis eyes are dark, his pupils wide. He throws his legs around Harry's waist again and using his arms around Harry's neck and shoulders he positions so that Harry's freed hands can bring his cock to an inviting hole. Through all this Harry has grown full and erect. His cock is weeping precum the same as Louis' so this is an easy slide into Louis' heat. 

The toilet bowl is in their way. It's awkward. Harry has to press Louis' back against those pipes Louis was just gripping so it worries Harry that this is painful for Louis. But Louis takes the pain with the pleasure as Harry pushes up and into him. Harry doesn't wait for Louis to adjust before beginning relentless trusts. In Harry's nightmares Louis was so well fucked by Des, night after night his body would be worked loose, but that was only a bad dream. From the way Louis felt around his two fingers Harry knew nothing had been in Louis since their last time together. Louis is very, very tight. It's hot and consuming Harry. 

Harry smiles knowing this means something Harry requires as a constant reassurance; Louis has been been very faithful and devoted to him, but then Harry already knew that didn't he? He has slipped into Louis bed each night and found Louis to be clean, pure and pristine. Every fear about Des and Louis together was only some weird mix of childhood sexual trauma combined with a paternal absence of acceptance or support. So Harry let's himself enjoy this rough, merciless plunging into the one he loves. Each trust Harry takes him closer to orgasm. He wants to come but he can't. It's only after Louis spills a hot jizz between them that signals Harry to cum too. It's all Harry can do to keep his feet as Louis' body becomes limp as he murmurs in Harry's ear how good that felt.

Once Harry begins filling Louis with cum his cock slips out from the slick and he feels a copious amount of viscous heat running down. Harry fumbles for the latch to the stall door as Louis clings onto to him. He carries Louis to the sink where a linen couner normally attended by an old man would hand restaurant patrons neatly prepared cloths scented with fresh lavender but Harry grabs a stack of these and begins wiping up as much of the dripping mess as fast as he can. 

Louis begins laughing. "Attendant, we need more towels please, more towels!"

It restores Harry confidence that he can stand another day at home. This somewhat seedy taking in a restroom stall makes him feel strong again. He has Louis. All else doesn't matter. Louis is funny and playful. He's fiesty and sexy. Harry can stand a few more days if Louis is at his side .

... 

When Harry and Louis step out of the men's room the two men are indeed standing at either side of the door like a hired security detail. Their faces have a look of astonishment. Louis laughs and says "Thanks mate" as he threads his arm around Harry's waist and they walk out threaded together. 

Yes, with Louis' carefree boldness at his side Harry can stand anything.


	70. Breakthrough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tile of the chapter sums it up. The family, because it takes a family, has a breakthrough. The cause of Harry's inability to trust his home as a safe place is discovered. Mother and son open to each other.

Anne is up insanely early. She doing this in order to sneak downstairs to the office and do some research via computer while everyone in the house is sleeping. It's 4AM. 

With luck Anne will be back in her bed beside her husband before his alarm goes off and he gets up at six. He'll never know she's done this unless she needs to tell him. It's been too many days with Harry home, seemingly off in some way and offering no explanations despite the efforts from Des to make nice about Louis. 

She's enters the hall. It's dark but she notices that the door of the next room over is ajar. It's the expansive guest room that Louis is using. Anne is about to close it as she goes past the door when she decides that it is odd to have it be open. Maybe Louis went downstairs for something from the kitchen so before she closes it she pushes it a little wider and peers in. 

Her eyes are adjusted to the limited light. Even from the door, in a darkened room, Anne can see there are two bodies in the bed.

Harry is sleeping with Louis. 

Anne considers going to wake him, and sending him back to his own room. She'd decides not. She softly closes the door. It's more essential that she does her secret research now before Des wakes and before their combined processing of dinner at the restaurant last night begins with the new day. After all, there was a lot going on for all of them. It was more than Harry's duress. 

*** 

Morning Harry finds his mum sitting alone in the kitchen. He knew his father was at work already because it's almost 9AM and he saw his father busy in the home office as Harry makes his way to the kitchen. It is another day starting like the last few; Gemma knocked on Louis' door softly when the sound of water running through pipes indicated their parents were up. Gemma sending Harry out of Louis' room and back to his own. Secrets kept. 

Harry feels a little brighter today. That is because, even though it was another night with a nightmare about his father taking pleasures with a willingly, slutty Louis that woke Harry once again, Harry was quick to recall the dicking he and Louis enjoyed hours before the nightmare invaded his subconscious. He was quick to get up and go again as he'd been doing each night, find his Louis sleepy and cuddly, welcoming of him and no one else. To soothe the fears Harry finished his night in Louis' bed with the two of them wrapped together. 

"Mornin" Harry mumbles to his mum. He's yet to shower and his eyes look reluctant to wake. 

"Morning sweetie" Anne says smiling with open arms to call her son over for a hug. 

The hug lasts a little longer than normal. Anne finishes it with a deep study of her son's face. It's the type of inspective study a parent does when a child is either sick or, as Harry recalls well, when teens begin sneaky, risky behaviors like childhood dirinking or other substances. Harry feels how meanful the examination from his mum is and he sees some tears welling in his mum's eyes. She found something in her youngest child' face that reveals something. It's making her sad. 

Harry can't stand that. He loves his mum. Her happiness is paramount to his. Before Louis there was no one who's happiness means more. 

"What is it? Is something wrong?" Harry asks her. His face makes a timid smile that is mixed with an awkward edge of fear. Given his luscious, full lips and his impossibly divine dimples, the expression is comical even though the situation is not. 

"Harry. Love...um, I've been doing some reading. Long, long overdo reading." 

It pours from Anne. She snuck down to use the computer, started at 4AM reading with the information she knew as the springboard into a gateway of information she'd long feared. She'd always pretended. This type of thing was not something that could happen in h e r family. 

When Harry went to the States for his program at Bar 3 they knew he had been doing certain things. Like the brass act of fucking a VP in the corporate board room of his father's work. They got insights to many other things Harry did away from home too. These were abnormal behaviors, sexual acts, directed at Harry's peers at school. All of these sexually malicious acts were summed up by a school counselor as suggesting their very wealth-indulged child had a certain level of disrespect indicative of perhaps his allfuent upbringing. Simply stated, Harry was a spoiled, conceited prick. Sexual aggression was just one of its indicators. The Styles were bad parents. 

Anne tells Harry she has just been reading, learning how that's an easy cop out or mistinterpretation of a bigger issue. Anne researched, as she confides to Harry, and she found that sometimes the sexual aggression by a juvenile is a mask. It's a cry out. A sign of a child being sexually abused. Why had never this possibility never been presented to them? Why did the school assume only one explanation? 

Never in the sorting through the cause of Harry's behaviors was Harry thought to be a victim. After all, he initiated, he used, he broke others. Harry wasn't broken. He was a predator. At least this was his school's assement. 

Having read research about sexual deviant behavior in teens Anne next reread the report from Bar 3. Anne saw its conclusions in an entirely new frame of mind. 

Months before when Harry came home she found the program's report a little empty, vague, unsatisfying. It didn't diagnose or label Harry for his parents, not like the school counselor's had. The report eluded to Harry's aggression as sourced different from the local school experts who suggested Harry be sent to their program. The school was wrong about Harry as an indulged, spoilt, elitist, the report states. In retrospect Anne realizes she was too relived to be off the hook to give full thoughts to the deeper matter even after sending her son away fro so long. 

Until this morning Anne had not put as much thought into what the report didn't say and why the approach this renowned program presented in its conclusions when a student was released is about the final stage; what happens at home. 

The program counselor's at Bar 3 were experts. Unlike Harry's school counselor's who were generalist, the Bar 3 staff worked exclusively with deeply troubled youth. One thing parents were warned about before their child was accepted was how Bar 3 handles the discoveries made; the program is designed to heal the child, not comfort or teach the parent. 

Their contract of acceptance read: "Many times the problems at home are in the parent environment. In cases where it is deemed safety for the child being unreconcilable at home we only release our students to a guardian or to their own authority if they are of age." Reading this over Anne realizes this doesn't give her and Des a pass, it simply indicates Harry had a better chance returning home with his parents to move on, than being removed from his home. It was reassuring and yet vague. In every case Bar 3 rigorously maintains that they leave the report that is sent home incomplete to protect privacy of its attendees. Minors or not, Bar 3 maintains the confidential information of its youth receives. It teaches the child responsibility. This includes responsibility for the protection of themselves. It is up to the child's discretion to share the issues that put them on a bad path. Therefore a depth of content might be lacking in the parents copy. Bar Three asserts that in most cases, without more trauma in the attendees home lives, the youth eventually come to open up to those the child has support from at home. The healing, the confiding, comes in time which is variable as every child is unique. As long as they feel safe, welcomed, they heal. Eventually most share. 

Anne tells Harry how she's newly reflected on all the information that was staring her in the face. She realizes now how Harry came home to a family still closed into itself, and he was confronted with no feeling of support. Healed by the program or not, the final stage of recovery was out of his grasp because his home was not willing to offer what he needed. Instead he experienced deceit and control from Des. 

Anne postulates hypothetically as Harry listens. Had Louis been a few hours away from home in Doncaster, waiting for Harry, had Harry been allowed to heal, freely make his own choices, what would he have done? Maybe the healing would have come as the Bar 3 report suggested. Maybe Harry would have confided as the report said "in most cases out students will give their story to their family when they are ready. This is a process that has no universal timeline as each child's trauma, each family's/community's communication is unique to them. When the sharing begins we strongly advise families seek a family counselor. Preferably someone on our referral list (included) for your area..." 

Anne tells Harry that by 5 AM she knows they failed Harry in the immediate first few days of his return home. In essence they discarded what Bar 3 did on day one. Every letter of Louis' that Des returned was a nail in the coffin. 

And by 5:30AM? Anne had learned how aggressive sexual deviancy perpetrated by a child is usually a sign of sexual abuse. She confides to Harry that it finally occurred to her that, not being spoiled, was the thing that was unsaid in the report Harry came home with. She realizes it is hinted at, but vague. That information Bar 3 counselors were leaving Harry to own time to share as he felt safe to do so. Anne couldn't fathom who could have exposed her son so young and used him, hurt him, turned his heart. She just knows that all these dots connect. She goes through a list of relatives in her head because usually, say the studies Anne read, the perpetrator is someone very close to the child. A parent, an uncle... rarely is it that random stranger or some escaped convict that every parent fears. Ugliness, like beauty, starts at home. But Anne knows Bar 3 learned who it was with Harry. It wasn't someone with current access because they let him come home. 

Anne is to tears as she is pouring all this out to Harry. She's learned far too late and the fears of what she has let her son suffer is overwhelming her when Harry stops her. 

He speaks confidently and calmly. Harry too is ready for truth. Finally. 

"It started was when I was fourteen. When I felt this, this, this thing started with Caleb. Coach Caleb..." 

*** 

Shy of an hour later Louis comes walking with padding-feet to the kitchen. He looks soft and comfy in loose sweats, a loose-neck tee and a beanie concealing his messy, "boyfriend in my bed" hair. He's stopped abruptly by the scene. It's Harry and Anne both crying and holding each other. 

He waits at the door for a minute and realizes this is some breakthrough or catharsis has transpired between mother and son. 

Harry senses Louis' presence first, turns and opens their embrace asking Louis to come to join them. 

Louis is not sure what this crying is about. He can only guess. He's wanting to be a part of it for Harry's well-being. As soon as he is consumed into their hug Anne kisses his cheek and praises him. 

"Thank you for bringing my son back. Bless you Louis, bless you for bringing him home to the light." 

It's after those words leave Anne's lips that Des enters the kitchen. It's 10 AM now and like clock-work it's time for his ten minute tea break. He is met with the sight of his wife and the two lads wrapped by each other's arms together. His wife is sobbing and her beautiful face is uncharacteristaclly ruddy from it. Their son is sobbing too and his eyelids look so puffy from it that they too look unfamiliar. Thankful his son's pixie boyfriend looks normal, mostly, but he's uncomfortable looking, concerned about the pain in the other two. 

"Did I miss something?" Des says.


	71. A Garden Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been thinking a lot about how remarkable a person Jay was. This chapter channels Jay's wedding day. The descriptions of Harry and Louis' looks for the garden party are taken directly from that. In the faintest manner this is a tribute to Jay and all really good mothers.

***

How could a mother miss so many signs? After Anne's feeling of complete heartbreak for the way her failings affected her son Anne decides that the only way forward as a family was to put Harry on the right path. She decides this the morning after she and Harry talk, his story revealed, she wants Harry to be in a happy, healthy environment. No longer will they go on with Harry trapped in his parents home mirroring some life they intended him to lead for their comfort, but rather have him moving on in his own direction. 

For him to do that Harry needed to be catching up on his studies to prep for Uni. He needed to be somewhere fresh and inspiring among new peers and not tied to his home where all of his friends were from the painful years of his adolescence and old haunts could hold him back or accountable. Small town ghosts can haunt the psyche far too easily. 

Therefore, it was Anne's wish, that Harry and Louis would go to London. Together. She calls Louis' parents and discuss this with them. They agree. 

The Styles family have yet another luxerious home in London. In fact that residence is where Des usually lived as he ran his financial empire. For the three young people the London address would give the them limitless opportunities. Des, being his own boss, could always work from wherever and Anne decides that the short time, at least, it seemed the best plan was for Des to remain at the family home in Cheshire with her and work from there. Harry, Louis and Gemma would go to London.

Before the three leave for this new chapter of their lives Anne also decides to have one, large joint-family gathering of the Styles and the Tomlinsons. A Saturday garden party, semi-formal was the plan. Such events were common occurrences for the Styles as they typically had so many social obligations, especially during polo season. 

The idea was this would be an easy way for two families and a few close friends to join up for a nice sendoff. Needless to say the reality of this massive family gathering has its ups and downs for Harry and Louis.

For Harry's up-side it is seeing Louis again, interacting like only Louis can, with kids. Once Louis' extensive family shows up it is like a village of marauding meriment arrives to the Styles' usually more quiet, formal home. Louis gets loud and playful and it reminds Harry of the trickster side of Louis that lives within. Watching Louis in the burst of play that unfolds Harry wonders if Louis could ever grow old. It doesn't seem so. Like Will's Francie immortalized in youth as an image in a black and white photograph, Harry's vision of Louis through the years is one of an eternal youth. A Peter Pan. 

The down side for Harry at the two family gathering begins soon after Louis' playtime with the younger kids subsides. 

It is then that Jay pulls her son aside. She was waiting for the opportunity it seemed. Jay offers Louis some very sturdy, ribbon-tied box. 

Harry can't be sure but he thinks he sees a tailor's label on the lid. After a brief disappearance, Louis reappears with his mum at his side and she is beaming with pride. 

Louis has changed out of his too casual attire of jeans and tee. He's wearing a cobalt blue suit of some silken fabric bought for him by his mum "just in case London job interviews requires such finery", Harry later learns Jay said as she gave it to Louis to try on for the celebratory day. Jay's hopefulness for her son's prospects despite his recent misadventures for resumé building is obvious. She's just so much a devoted mother it seems her numerous children aren't numerous enough to tax her abilities to love and nurture them all.

So throughout the day of family and friends chattering and sharing stories in a garden party setting Harry could only wait to touch Louis and continually strive to watch Louis from afar as to not appear too much a "couple". It's nearly impossible for Harry because the double breasted suit is cut perfect to accent all of Louis' curves. His waist looks tiny, his bum synonymous with rapture. How can Harry endure this? 

Harry tries not to look for every opportunity to sweep Louis away for some quick release. He's waiting for the party to die down, thinking the same thing every time he spies Louis; he will soon enough be able to run his hands over Louis' tight little body while it is silk-clad...before...

"Harry? Son, would you come with me? I want to introduce you around." It's Jay who breaks Harry's emerging fantasy, asking to take his hand to make a round of introductions. 

...

For Louis the day is no easier. He too tries to take in everything about Harry from afar. There are a few, very, very frustrating negatives to endure because Harry looks spectacular and Louis is relishing what going to a London means for them. 

Well, actually, in retrospect, Louis is feeling like there a r e two very, v e r y, tiny negatives. 

Although the they are small, Louis can't help but be drawn to them. They are... 

Titties.

Or nipples to be precise. Harry's nipples are once again on display. 

The way Harry chose to dress was to top his head of curls with a black fedora complementing his black suit worn with a sheer black shirt underneath that once again was mostly unbuttoned as clearly is becoming Harry's new style. As if to suggest some modesty Harry wears a long, flowie silk scarf as an accent but it does positively nothing to make the occasional nip-slips from his revealing shirt less. 

As Jay meanders around the garden leading Harry to introduce him to every ancient and extended relative and close family friend like a bride at her wedding party. Louis finds himself having to wear his sunglasses to avoid revealing his constant and overt following of his boyfriend with his lustful eyes. 

Louis watches as Harry, is charming everyone he meets. Jay is beaming, gushing pride over introducing Harry. You could almost hear the implication, though it was not said, of "sssoooo, this is my future son-in-law, Harry, isn't he lovely..." The fact that Harry is in all black, nips out with every move, has no impact on Jay's pride in showing Louis' Harry around to the Tomlinson contingency. Jay loves Harry. Louis can't help but watch them even though Harry's nips are nearly the death of him. 

Clearly Louis knows, his attempt to shield his drooling over his boyfriend is only partly effective because Gemma, Lottie and Fizzy are all notably aware of his struggles. They begin laughing at him if he looks Harry's way and shake their heads suggesting, no, don't. Just don't risk it. It is that which makes Louis realize he is licking his lips or biting the lower one if he allows his attention to drift towards Harry for even a fraction of a second. So Louis, turns away. He puts his hand on his hip and stands next to the three young ladies who are laughing at him and huffs off their teasing as doubles his efforts and tries to not think about ...licking, biting and sucking on those nipples of Harry's and the delight of making them puffy in so doing. 

All things considered the day goes very well. No surprise that somewhere in the mixing of two extended families that Des and Keith find each other. How Keith has blinders to Harry's rather bold choice of attire is anyone's guess. Thankfully when Anne checks in on her husband and Keith there is no gay-bashing or anything of the sort. It appears the two were in deep discussion of golf. Maybe someday, Anne sighs in relief. Yes, someday her son and his mate could have a party like this only not under false pretenses as a family gathering before they embarked on a new phase, two friends starting out in the big city, but rather as a celebration of their union, two families coming together in their support. Someday.

But Jay and Anne are not the only persons thinking of someday. 

About the time that Anne was checking on Des, Harry and Louis slip away from the masses and steal a private moment in Des' home office. Ironically it was along a bookshelf wall, the very one where the basket of misappropriated letters had once been stowed on the top shelf, that they pressed their bodies together in a hasty need to respond to the torment of the other's affect upon them. 

Hands roam over the body of the other and their kiss is intense and urgent. 

Harry's lips are always so naturally red, but when they part following so much passionate contact his lips are truly red as any perfect rose. 

Louis shows the intensity of the their exchange in his breathlessness and the flush over his ever so perfect cheekbones. Though his white silk shirt is button to the top, it's tight, so his heaving chest is measurable in counts with each rhythmic breath. Harry puts his hand on it because he reads in Louis' stirred passion and nervousness. The nervousness makes Harry quizzical. The day is a beautiful one. Why is Louis nervous?

For a minute the two don't speak but just take stock of each other. Neither wants to stop there and return to their party. They want to steal way upstairs and be naked, making love, lost in the one that matters while everything else in the world fades into the background. But they can't. This formal garden party is for them. They are so near being off on their own. A little restraint is in order. 

Each steps back. They each adjust themselves because both aroused, are feeling strain. Harry looks down to check out Louis' and notices that Louis has one leather shoe with the lace untied. 

Harry takes a knee. At Louis feet he begins to tie the shoelace and he's thinking silly romantic things amusing himself in his silence as he and Louis continue to not speak and try to calm their desire to push forward embracing each other.

When he looks up with the job finished Harry has a smile on his face. He wants to comment on how this is connecting to marriage proposal fantasies in his mind when he is caught off guard by a silly smile on Louis' face. Louis seems to have calmed his breath and he looks determined. 

Louis is looking down, some intention expressed without words and he pulls one out hand from his pocket while catching a hold of Harry's left hand with his other.

"Okay Prince Harold" Louis says referring to Harry almost the same as Will including the use of the word "prince". "This might be better if I were the one on one knee..."

Louis holds Harry's hand such that he slips a silver band with a simple blacked detail onto the second finger of Harry's left hand. The ring reads "peace". If it were not for that the ring would resemble a simple wedding band. The detail makes it less formal. 

Louis continues as he holds Harry's freshly adorned hand, "...but there you go. Wrong finger, right hand. Don't want to be too obvious and send your father off the edge, but Harry, will you marry me?"

Harry looks at the ring that seems so natural there on his hand and then up to meet Louis' questioning eyes. 

Louis' has tears in them, just a little, he glances pass Harry around the room like if he doesn't stare into Harry's green eyes he will suffer less if Harry finds this presumptive and rejects him. 

Before Harry can gather what he wants to say, Louis begins a nervous stammering on without allowing Harry a reply. 

"Me and Gemma went to this store she likes earlier today when you were helping your mum get the party set up. She helped me pick this out. Do you like it?"

"No." Harry says. 

The instant the word crosses his lips Louis locks his eyes on Harry and his face shows complete and utter shock. The look reminds Harry of the look Louis had that night out in the storm on the mountain when their search for Niall nearly took Louis' life as the mountain trail under his horse washed out. Back then the look on Louis' face was terror, his life slipping away in the most fearful manner imaginable. 

No? 

No to marriage? 

No to liking the ring? 

Within a spilt second of response Louis' heart is breaking as he's standing there feeling complete utter loss. Louis shudders from such insurmountable uncertainty. 

Harry stands up enveloping Louis completely in his arms realizing his words had many unintended translations. To confirm his intent he kisses Louis who seems to have stopped breathing like the shock of hearing "no" was draining him. When Harry ends the kiss he calmly states his meaning. 

"No Louis. I don't just like it, I love it. And I love you, and yes, I want to marry you."

Harry feels Louis take a long withheld breath and when Harry returns to taking a knee at Louis' feet where he is holding Louis' hands in his and kissing them with a peppering of tiny kisses, he offers further explanation. 

"I want to marry you tomorrow, no, or today. Or no, what I really want to do is go out there in front of both our entire families and tell them we're eloping today. I want, I want... I want to run away, go back to the Rocky Mountains, to that lake above the ranch. On the shore of that lake I want to marry you. I want to be there so high, so close to the stars so our love can live there for eternity."

Harry can't continue on with his sentiment because Louis sinks to his knees too and is tackling Harry onto the floor. Neat pressed silk or not Louis is smothering Harry with kisses while calling him a "complete tosser". 

This is how Gemma discovers them when she comes to find them. They are on the floor, half-wrestling, half-making out. Flushed and breathless. 

"I take it the ring is to his liking?" Gemma says smirking to the two lads who are in a puddle of their emotions. 

"This is to my liking." Harry slaps his hands on Louis arse as he speaks. He grips one side with a pinch evoking a yelp from Louis, before he raises the other hand showing her the ring. It's on Harry's left hand, second finger. Subtle. To all the world it is just a bobble, a trinket. For them it was a symbol that held the deepest of meaning.

Gemma smiles.


	72. London

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Stylinsons are in London. And there's more drama.

Harry wakes in his bed to his phone alarm sounding. It seems entirely too early. 

His hand tenderly reaches over even though he knows the search is futile. Louis would have been up for hours. 

Harry must get up too and be off to do his studies. He finds his body is unusually twisted in a swirl of bed covers. They are knitted around him unconventionally. 

Slowly waking allows him to reflect on why this is. 

The final act between he and his lover made their bed this twisted mess. Right. It was a good, good night. 

Harry had made Louis crouch over him. The impulse struck Harry that he wanted everything so fast and ...full. "Full" was the word. Harry wanted them both embedded in each other. 

The impulse resulted in making Louis spin 180 degrees around, taking Harry's cock in his mouth and sucking Harry off. Harry laid sprawled comfortably stretched out under Louis. Harry laid back down, face up, head on a pillow with Louis straddling over him. 

Louis obeyed Harry's wish to perfection. He fucked Harry's mouth as he worked Harry's cock. How Louis moved, dominantly position or not, was completely driven by the way Harry's fingers pushed into Louis' hole. Harry maintained the driving force despite his lazy positioning; he was in fact a reclined puppet master controlling Louis. 

It was 2AM when they went to sleep after two hours of exhausting lovemaking. The hour was far too late for a work or school day but late nights had become their pattern since they came to London together. Usually they tried to arrange be with Zayn, Liam and Niall each evening. They let Gemma have the Styles' home and usually return there after she was asleep freeing her from being the secret parent spy or responsible party. 

In fact on most nights after school or work the five lads who met at Bar 3 would hang out together until nearly midnight. The habit was such a standard that Harry wakes each day tired. Tired and happy. Fulfilled like he had never been since he was thirteen and untouched by the complications of romantic love. One love, his first love experience broke him into pieces; he had remained shattered until he met Louis.

None of that is on Harry's mind as the demands of this day come into focus. Harry frees himself from the mess of blankets, makes his way to the shower then, after dressing, to the kitchen. It's a complete mess too. Louis must have made something for himself before he left for work despite his disasterous skills in the kitchen. Harry is at a loss of what it was. Who uses peanut butter and Nutella and cheese in the same dish? 

Harry decides to clean the mess and get something to eat on the way to school. He leaves their home carrying a backpack of books. Deciding to get a snack enroute has more to do with what he needs to consume some of what is non-caloric than what he will order to eat at the coffee shop.

Harry walks into Every Last Bean. 

He doesn't even bother to think of what to order. Indeed he avoids the patron line and the clerks at the till who look over the line of customers to greet him. Harry heads with daily practiced experience walks directly around all the people in the line to go the end of the bar and peer around the large espresso station. There making drink orders and hidden by the big, stainless steel apparatus is his Louis. 

"Haz!" Louis says like Harry is the greatest thing in the world, along lost friend unexpected and surprising. Louis leans toward Harry allowing brief contact of lips but not lingering more than a quick second because Louis has his hands busy with his orders made of pressurized, scalding, hot liquid.

"Want your usual?" Louis asks. 

A piece of his finge falls between Louis' eyes so Harry hooks the stray and attempts to place it away. It's a dilemma for Harry. Which is more not adorable? The way Louis' fringe gets "independent" when it's near the steam of the espresso machine or the way Louis looks in the apron he wears when he's making orders? 

Harry's reply to Louis'query is typically deep and slow. He always lowers his voice so the other employees are sure to not overhear. "Um hum, but can I have a side of that thing we did last night too."

Louis puts the two drinks he's has just prepared on the tray for the barista at the till and calls out a completed order. This is his chance to turn his full attention to Harry which he does with arms threading around Harry' waist making another effort to share a kiss, this one more full-bodied and lingering tongue. It's still quick. The coffee shop is busy. 

"Alrighty you, hands off my bar boy during work hours!"

It's a comment made in passing by the manger Eleanor. Harry likes the way Eleanor teases him with the same line every day, the same smile, a predictable wink. Like a clock every time it's the same. 

More drink orders are sent to Louis. That impresses upon Harry more how his timing is very bad, but honestly he can't start a single day since their move to the city without seeing Louis. Irresisble. One word that sums up Louis for Harry. 

Harry pulls away stepping back overtly from Louis with his hands up for effect to play along as he smiles back at Eleanor.

"Not my fault you hire all the cutest people. Besides this one is like a stray. If I come when his shift is over he follows me home every night!"

Louis starts making another set of drinks; busy customer traffic demands his focus. 

"Want yours take away or are you having it here?" Louis asks as he works and blows his fringe out of his eyes because the one section of hair once again drops down to annoy him. 

Harry feels his heart just swell because damn, his boyfriend, his fiancé is just so fucking pretty. 

Louis has a blush to his cheekbones from the steam. He's been biting his lip again which he does whenever he tries to make those pretty swirly things that baristas decorate the tops of lattes with. (Louis' frequently come out like penises. He struggles with striving to make leaves or flowers.) Adding to Louis' dainty sculpture of his cheekbones and pretty shade of pink on his lips is how Louis is once again wearing a thin, simple tee with a loose neckline that reveals his everlastingly sunkissed collarbones. 

It's all too much for Harry.

"Better that I'll take it and go. Seems it's very busy today, too much for studying here. Right? Busier than normal?"

Eleanor walks past them again taking a dish towel to clean some tables and hears Harrys question. She adds commentary. 

"Been getting busier and busier since your boyfriend returned. Everybody loves Louis. They particularly love it when he has busing duties or he is washing dishes."

Harry knows the insinuation. 

If Louis is out clearing tables he's easier to talk to. And to watch. 

If Louis is assigned to washing dishes he is positioned behind the bar but while doing the washing he is bending down at the sink. One row of counter seats allows patrons to chat him up while he's that station. They can appreciate his facial features, his collarbones, maybe even glimpse into his usually sheer or disarmingly loose-neck tees. Another row of seats at a counter positioned perpendicular to the wash station allows spectacular view of Louis' bum when he's dishwashing. So yeah. Busing duties and washing dishes are great times to be at the Every Last Bean if you're into frothing over Louis.

Harry looks at Louis thinking about this. He'd rather Louis be do something more professional, less publically exposed than being a coffee shop barista. He starts to say something about this and pauses. Louis hands him a chai made to Harry's order. As an extra measure of lovingly tending to Harry's needs Louis takes a quick second to grab a whole wheat muffin from the nearby case, bags it and hands that to Harry too without inquiry. 

"Don't give me that look again that you just had on your face Harry," Louis doesn't linger in passing the items and dismissingly addressing Harry for the moodiness. Besides, orders are backing up. "I know what your beautiful mind is thinking. It's on your face. Your pouting. Remember I do have another interview for a r e a l job next week. We've discussed this. This gif is temporary. I'll move on."

Harry opens his mouth as if to speak when he hears a Louis-favoring customer enter the shop. Standing at the end of the line the young man in his twenties chants audibly "Yes! It's a Louis-shift today, alright!" 

Upon seeing this Harry laughs at himself. Why is he being so serious? The guy is a total dork. He has nothing to offer Louis in the appearance arean, not that that is all that matters. But why is Harry so stressed. Is it because a barista is beneath Harry's position in life? For a moment there he felt like his father. Expectations of starting out on the top, like that is easy for Louis to just make happen in a snap. Harry becomes softened when he catches this view of himself and he makes a quick reach into hallowed and forbidden employee turf of Every Last Bean so that he can place a kiss on the side of Louis' neck before he announces his exit. 

Seconds after leaving the shop Harry thinks about how much his expectations of London are really based on his unbringing and not on realities of life for persons of normal privilege. Sure, Harry has the great challenge to make up college prep courses in order to start Uni. He's not even eighteen so he's not behind. It will happen for him. To expedite that goal Harry is enrolled in a very exclusive, private program. By all measures he will have good qualifications and excellent test scores to submit to his choice university. On top of that, Harry's parents can afford to send him to any school...in any country. 

Louis on the other hand was thrown off his plan. 

Prior to being forced into a rehab program without merit Louis was going to go to Uni, drama school. He even had a scholarship apparently. His family hoped he could work part-time and manage to pay as he went if he kept the scholarship award, so as to avoid debt. After Louis was wrongly, maliciously and deliberately sent to the US he couldn't reserve his scholarship. Now Louis had no recourse but to start with no assistance. And his family still had four sister at home to budget expense for. At best, Louis could work full time and do a few classes, maybe at night. Adding to the uncertainty of that prospect though was how hard it was for Louis now to find a job with a vacuum in his resume. 

Unrequited revenge sending Louis to a behavior treatment program from which he did not graduate, followed by fate having whisked him away leaving him with no employment history had the combined effect of dropping Louis from any path that showed he was a good candidate to hire in a good paying job. How does anyone explain so many months with no employement history? 

Des had offered both lads entry positions to build resumes. It was part of the offer for them to relocate in London from Anne and Des. Problem with accepting that was that both Harry and Louis felt like they needed more independence. All Therese tthings considered,the fact that Louis had such good terms with Eleanor was a really good thing. 

Harry walks on thinking this over. He still gets a nervous stomach thinking of his dad with Louis. He also hates any idea of himself using his father's succecess a ladder for driving his own. He's not even interested in finance and business to be honest. It's too cut throat for Harry. He thinks maybe his thing is photography. Or literature. Or even working with kids, education maybe? Harry doesn't exactly know. All he knows is that if he has Louis, he can choose to do anything. He can be independent and self reliant like Louis. As long as they are one.

*** Some days later*** 

Harry wakes realizing he fell asleep again studying. This time it's the kitchen of Liam, Niall and Zayn's flat. He knows he must have been discovered after he dozed off because there is a blanket that wasn't there when he started that is draped over his shoulders. The cuppa which Louis made for him earlier is sitting on the table he's at unfinished and cold. There's also some drool on his note pad where his face was resting. He knows this nap was not just a minute or two. He looks at the clock on the wall. He slept for over an hour. 

Listening as he wakes uncomfortably cramping from the position he woke in the sound of soft conversing voices in the other room are coming into focus. It's Louis, Niall, Liam and Zayn talking softly as to not wake him. There's music playing. It's quite low in voulume too. 

Harry knows before he leaves the kitchen that the group of friends were well aware he'd been sleep deprived all week. They were allowing him rest as it seems to him that they had been extra supportive of him ahead of a series of exams he faced. 

The pattern of support had been consistent. Instead of their usual meeting out at a pub or a club after work, they were all meeting up for a late diner at Liam, Niall and Zayn's flat. Someone would make dinner. The five would quickly eat. Harry would get to work at the table in the kitchen studying while Louis cleaned dishes. Eventually Louis would join the other three in the living room and the night would go on with Harry buried in his studies and the other four chilling out, laughing sharing events of their day quietly. 

Harry liked the degree of emotional support from his friends. In one way this was a rare week because they all five had coordinating work schedules. This rarely happened, epsically with Liam's all demanding fireman shifts. But tonight was one of the five in -sync. If not for Harry's school demands, the five could have easily elected to be out partying. For whatever the reason, the four others all elected to spend time in together while Harry worked on his exam prep. Maybe because it was so natural and easy. A band of brothers hanging together. 

Harry stands up and puts his things into his pack. He takes a few steps toward the sound of happy voices in the living room but Harry stops short of revealing himself when hears Niall say something particular interest. 

"Louis? Has your bum-coveting patron been hovering around as much this week as last?" 

"Pretty much like always," Louis replies, "but he's getting some interference from the other baristas. I think when he put his hand openly on me bum last week it kinda put everyone in shock. They joke that me bum gets a lot of tips, we share that around, but that was over the line for everyone. Too, too touchy." 

Ahrry was about to burst into view. He hears Zayn which stops him. 

Well can't really blame 'em, Louis. Your arse is epic," Zayn half slurs in a sleepy tone. Harry can tell that Zayn pauses mid thought to he take a long drag on his cigarette. 

Harry takes a position to view the room with the other four from out of sight the layout of his friends in the room. 

He sees that Niall is sitting ont the floor with his guitar in his lap as he is replacing a strings. Behind him with legs affording a backrest to Niall is Liam. Across from them on the couch are Louis and Zayn. Zayn is nearly asleep and Louis is tucked up against Zayn such that they look sweet together. Louis is doing this thing that Harry is not happy to see. He is fanning the smoke that Zayn exhaled toward himself. 

This, breathing in what Zayn exhales is becoming commonplace despite that Harry expresses his dislike of it. 

Last week in this very same flat Zayn unexpectedly shot-gunned weed smoke into Louis' mouth. After that unpredictable connecting Harry has tried to put a stop to this new thing developing with Zayn and Louis. Harry maintains that, unlike Zayn's boyfriends, Louis is being seduced into smoking by Zayn. The thing with the occasional enjoyment of weed was one thing. Habitual smoking tobacco is another. Harry steadfastly disapproves. Louis seems to be straddling some line of doing accepting this, with any smoke Zayn wants to share, which Louis incorrectly calls vaping. For Harry it's both annoying to see and someowhat erotically pleasing at the same time. Something about Louis and Zayn together is appealing to Harry, though he can't understand why. 

As concerned as Harry is about the smoke eroticism between Zayn and Louis it pales in comparison to the conversation about a coffee shop patron obsessing over Louis. That is a big, big problem. Massive. Stressed exam schedule or not, Harry is very displeased to learn this is an ongoing issue that the other three are engaged in and he is left out of. 

The sentence Zayn continues with as he exhales reveals more disturbing details. 

"Just finished a piece the other day inspired by your [Louis'] arse actually. The other students stated in their review of it that they thought my muse for it was was a peach. That's because they are such idiots and they've never had the pleasure of seeing your naked bum. Once one has seen your bare bum, felt it, it's all over for us mortals. How can anyone resist it's power? Epic perfection. Wouldn't you say Niall?" 

Niall snorts an affirmative reply and nods his head before he quickly catches himself for what he inappropriately agreed with. His honest reaction happened on impulse, without thought. Realizeing its implication to his lover's, Liam particularly, he looks back over his shoulder at Liam. 

Niall is blushing with embarrassment but he quickly gushes praise of Liam, his alpha. 

"Yea, but I prefer Li's to be honest. No offense Louis." 

"None taken, mate." Louis says as he again seems to be wafting smoke espressed from Zayn his way as he upodates the friends with him on the alarm. "And this thing with, Chad hanging around, anyway, like I said before not really wanting Harry to catch on to it. He's got too much to do as is with all those classes he's doing. I'm not sure he's getring enough sleep. It's even been two days since we've, you know. He's always too tired. He worrries too much. Maybe after Harry has this set of exams I'll tell him. If Chad is still around." 

The perennial fatherly figure, Liam chimes in. 

Liam is still the guy who will go to fists if need be for any passion. He and Louis have developed the most brotherly relationship of any two of the five since they all came together in London. References of flirtations past, like the comment about Louis' bum are common between Louis, Zayn and Niall. But with Liam everything with Louis and Liam is always strictly brotherly. Even given the past sexual relationship between Harry and Liam, a feeling resides in Harry that Liam would be close to Louis if he had to choose between which friend to trust or save in a fire. Harry also knows instinctively that if there was need, Liam would confide in Louis rather than Harry because Louis has always been just a friend. A great listener. Harry has regret about how he treated Liam. He's not sure how long before he, they, can moved beyond that. 

"Well just listen to your instincts with that guy Louis." Liam says. "He struck you as a player from day one with his so called agent to models talk. Even though he's confirmed he does manage some models, you didn't see the evidence. If your gut is telling you he's shady, trust yourself. Lucrative offer promised or not I'm glad you were smart and didn't take the hook. Underwear model, right." 

Liam says "right" with a disgusted empahsis. He's shaking his head no and the tells his givng off Harry knows well from the time Harry pushed Liam back in the States. Liam is frustrated, uncomfortable. This conversation about some bloke hashim concerned for Louis' safety. Liam continues. 

"And then the next thing you know he's cupping your ass as he encounters you taking trash out into the alley of the coffee shop...right! Not cool. If he's this professional agent, he knows he has no business touching prospective talent without permission. I wish you had looked at that information he showed you in more detail. It could be a made-up bunch of stuff just to pick up cute, naive, model-wannabes. Does he even have any male models in his client list? My gues is no. I don't know how it works in that industry. But I'm sure there is some specialization. Some agents handle child models, some handle male models, you know. Your wise to have reservations. Besides that thing with Niall sounds much more promising." 

Harry is struck by all of what he just heard. Someone has approached Louis about modeling. Modeling underwear. And groped him. What? And all three of their mates know about this, because it's a little shady and Louis confided to them. And there's something else for Louis with Niall.

Why is this all new to Harry? 

Harry, makes a loud yawning sound and then enters the room having alerted the four to his coming. They apologize for waking him. He says they should have woke him rather than let him sleep when he had a paper to finish. Harry's apparent grumpiness is assumed to be the disrupted sleep on top of too much upcoming exam stress and an unfinished paper due soon. No one is the wiser about what Harry overheard. 

The hour is late. After midnight, so Harry says to Louis they should go. He expresses that he wants get up earlier tomorrow and finish the draft of the paper. They are warmly hugging good nights as Harry and Louis prepare to leave. Before they exit Harry pulls Louis in tight to him and smells him. It's an opportunity to test Louis' honesty. 

"You smoking with Zayn again?" 

"What? No, Curly. I told you I don't smoke, I vape, and no. Just sitting beside Zayn. He smells like an ashtray 90 percent of the time." Louis takes the harsh edge off the comment about Zayn by winking at Zayn and sticking his tongue out. 

Zayn laughs. "Right, you wish." It's clearly a reference to some sexual use of tongue. Again the line between Zayn and Louis blurs. It's harmless though. This matter is not a concern to Harry, or to Liam and Niall. 

The only concern? Someone who frequents the coffee shop. Someone by the name of Chad.


	73. Chapter 73

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: there is a near het-encounter between Harry and a girl. But this is fiction. And she's just a necessary evil in the plot.

Harry is finishing his last exam. 

"Finally", he thinks.

It wasn't easy, the entire past week, but Harry made it through. He's had three long essays to complete out of class and turn this morning. He had four timed exams to prepare for. He is about to turn in his last of the tests. He feels really, really good about this one as he takes it to his instructor. 

Harry will know his scores on his first quarter of schooling soon, maybe even by late day Monday. Given how easy some of the tests felt his only concern was how his mind drifted even when in the middle of a timed test. Maybe his confidence was falsely placed. Harry couldn't avoid how he kept thinking about this guy named Chad.

Who was this Chad who approached Louis about modeling underwear? It seemed their friends didn't fully believe the guy was some actual modeling agent. What did Chad look like? When did Chad frequent the coffee shop where Louis worked? After Harry finished his last exam he couldn't wait to blast out and go directly to Every Last Bean just in case Chad was there again checking out Louis' ass.

Harry dropped the exam off to the teacher and rushed out of the classroom. He takes one step into the hall before he runs slamming into someone. Neither saw the other because both were looking down at what they had in their hands rather than where they were walking.

Fucking great; it's one of Harry's other teachers. 

As it happens the teacher Harry nearly flattened is his creative writing class professor who is holding what appears to be Harry' essay which he submitted in the morning before coming for this afternoon exam. Harry recognizes the work as his. The class allowed handwritten work which Harry opted to do for that assignment because writting by hand makes him feel more, well, creative. He even used a feather pen just for amusement and frequently worked off handwritten notes he'd scribed into a leather bound journal.

The man in his fifties looks like he's not at all flustered by nearly being knocked down by a larger, younger, fitter Harry.

"Harry, there you are. I was coming to see you. Hoped I'd catch you finishing the exam. Can we talk a minute? I've just finished reading your essay. There's something urgent I want to discuss with you."

Harry looks past the bookish, 50-ish man at the set of doors at the far end of the hallway. 

The double doors are propped open to let fresh air in and it's an exceptionally beautiful day for London. Outside is calling to him. Besides there is another source of urgency beckoning him to run to find Louis. Despirately Harry wants to get to Louis' work to hang out for the last hour of Louis' shift in case this guy named Chad comes around.

Harry looks down at his phone and checks time. Maybe he can spare a minute. 

The prof seems pressed to have Harry's time so Harry composes himself and says, "Sure." Afterall it was Harry's paper, his entire grade for his first quarter of the term, in the man's hand. 

Taking Harry's arm at the elbow the prof leads Harry down the hall. Once they see a vacant room they enter and the prof asks Harry to sit. It's a student desk that Harry chooses to take a seat at. Instead of going to a formal, leadership position at the front of the room the prof takes a similar desk to sit beside Harry. This postitioning alerts Harry. This conference is different than most. Very informal. Usually in meetings with teachers orbit and dominate. This approach, the choice of an open room, an open door to a busy hall and the way the prof takes a seat beside Harry at another student desk feels ...safe. Deliberately, disarmingly safe. 

"Harry I've just read your essay for creative writing."

The man holds the paper and can't stop looking at it except for a quick slightly nervous glance to check Harry's expression. 

"Harry. The theme, the subject for this...um exercise, it was an open topic. Students could pick any content they like since this is your first major assignment and makes a quarter of your final grade for the course."

As he speaks the prof once again takes a fleeting glance at Harry, a quick check to verify Harry's attention, his expression, his emotions.

Rocking in his chair a few times like he is a little uncomfortable, the professor slowly continues on. "Um, well first your paper is extremely well written. Really, really well written. In fact I think we should consider maybe advancing you into Creative Writing 2. You have so few errors, but there's more to this paper that I want to discuss with you than just the quality of your writing." 

There's another emotion-check from the profession before he looks back down to the written work drawling from it the motivation. Hesitation is on the man's face. 

"It's that, Harry. Have you, I mean, is this...Harry, is this fiction or this your story? I'm sorry to ask. But, but..."

Harry has to sit up and put his hand on the older man's shoulder. The prof is almost on the verge of tears as he asks with sensitivity. Was this a work of pure fiction? Did it come from Harry's own experience. 

Harry first thought of response is to deny it as anything close to fact. But when Harry tries to say that he looses his way. He knows. This story is not a fiction. The teacher knows too but he's only asking because it's so powerful for a story from one so young. Graphic and ugly. 

"It's mine. The story is of me coming of age. You said it could be based on anything even autobiographical. It kinda went too far that way maybe. I'm sorry if it's too graphic or sensitive. But that is me. My life. My fears. I don't know why I used it now, for this assignment, really I don't. I guess sometimes we just can't control things. We can't control who will scar us. We can't control when we need to share those scars. I'm sorry. I tried to write something happier. This is just all I could think of."

The professor composes himself and is quick to ask. "Harry are you okay? Are you seeing someone? Do you need help connecting to someone to talk to?"

Harry couldn't believe this. He submitted the paper but he didn't really expect an outpouring of concern from a teacher. To be honest he was not sure what he thought would be the interpretaion. 

Unprepared or embarrassed, Harry throws his hands over his face confronted with unexpected compassion from a virtual stranger. 

Years after the abuse, revealing his pain and suffering, and voilà, just like that it is so easy for someone to reach out to him to offer help. To care. If only that had happened when he was fourteen! 

Harry's tears induce tears of compassion from teacher too. In softness of voice the man rambles on about people he knows who help victims. He refers to someone he knew who was abused as a young teen. After the teacher and Harry share between them most of the hour Harry confides that he has got help now. He sees one therapist privately and his family comes to join Harry for regular family therapy with specialist who works with them on their family dynamics. Harry confides that the abuse is why he is now in this prep program following an extended program he did overseas which opened the doors for his recovery. 

He's okay, Harry reassures this kind soul as the entire hour has nearly ticked by. 

Closing their confidential and unplanned conference Harry adds one last thing as he is back to urgently wanting to go find Louis, "I'm glad we've talked. And I am okay, really. I have things like this school and goals to focus on. My family life has changed. And, I'm with someone. Someone special who loves me."

The professor stands as Harry does. He looks like he wants to hug Harrry. Harry, a boy, nearly a foot taller and very much not a small child. But the prof holds off. He extends a hand to Harry with his final words.

"Young Mr Styles, I'm glad you have someone. And know I'm always here if you ever need anyone who understands what you've experienced. If you have someone at home that you can trust that is all that matters. Someone special. Someone who tells you everything and listens to everything you need to share. So I guess I'll see you next week and have this graded. I read it so fast, I didn't even mark the few errors I saw because it so completely destroyed me with the emotion of the story. It's an "A". You know that..so next week. We'll discuss maybe advancing you forward."

...

Harry was out the door, striding away from the building and off campus with his long legs easily covering ground as he was hoping the hour delay didn't negate his chance to catch Louis at work. Perhaps, as was often true, Louis was delayed leaving like can happen if the coffee shop gets a burst of customers. Also, many times Louis hangs around for a while after his shift and has a cuppa just because he likes his coworkers. 

Turning a corner off campus Harry walks smack into the unexpected for a second time in one day. This time it's not a person per se. 

Along his route just erected for pedestrians of this busy thoroughfare to see is a huge billboard advert just a few blocks off the prep school campus facing the oncoming pediestirans broadcasting its promo to the traffic. 

There he is. In grander than life, full color. The words with the image introduce a surprise programming change at a major broadcasting company. There on the billboard is a picture of none other than Greg James. 

Greg's face is nearly ten feet tall. Greg is not unattractive but the sight of this makes Harry want to hurl stones at it.

Plastered on the billboard along with Greg's smiling face were the words, "Tune into the newest sensation in radio. Check out BBC Radio1 at five for the commute home now featuring Greg James!"

"Fuck-mmeee!!" Harry says. When did this happen?

Harry resist the urge to lop anything at the giant head of Greg James. But seriously? How did this happen?

Harry checks his watch again. Louis leaves work if on time in two minutes. Harry resumes his brisk walk as he drawls his phone to his ear and makes a call as he walks.

"Hello, connect me to Mr. Styles please. It's his son, Harry. This is urgent."

...

"Harry?" Des answers. Des took the call so fast it catches Harry by surprise. 

"Yes, yes. It's me..."

Harry's next words choke in his throat. He has so many thoughts in his head and they can't come free. For the first time in countless years Harry is really really needing his father's comfort. This is a huge and significant change in the relationship between them but as soon as Harry hears he's father's voice all the years of locked up emotions strangle him. Maybe it was that he's just spent and hour crying out until he was too raw with a kind, compassionate teacher. Or maybe it's this churning fear in his gut, something he can't deifine with Louis, but whatever. All of it is too intense.

"Harry? Son? Are you okay? Are you hurt? Is it...is it Louis? What is it?"

Harry tells his father that he is okay. It's not about Louis either. Well, sort of. But none of that is why he's calling. He's calling about fucking Greg James. 

"How the hell does that wanker land a gig in prime time at a popular station like BBC Radio 1? How? I just saw that wanker's smug face plastered on a billboard! Tell me this, how the hell does Greg get his face, in fully perfected color on a massive announcement celebrating he's the the new talent at the biggest station in London! What the fucking hell? I thought you fired him! How does he go from fired that to getting this reward after what he did to Louis?"

Harry was screaming that into his phone as he is running his other hand through his long hair and unconsciously pulling it. 

Harry didn't think it could get worse. 

His mistake. He turns another corner and he is immediately confronted with yet another advert for the new programming lineup featuring Greg at "live at five". It rolled past him as it was plastered on the side of a public bus. It seems like the nightmare is following Harry. 

Harry tries to listen to his father who, remarkably given their history, actually begins a soothing answer. Clearly Des is relieved that panic of Harry's well being is past, but Harry is so upset that he is not getting all the nuances of what Des is saying to him. 

To Harry there is singular focus. It is an inexplicable outrage. Unltimate injustice. A job like on air personality at a top radio station seems coveted and rare. How...why of all people Greg James?. If Harry were not too emotional he would actually hear sympathy for the shock Harry is experiencing in Des' voice as the reply follows.

Des explains, offers what he can because this is remarkable and inexplicable for Des too. After the way Greg's mistakes terminated his established career, it's a complete mystery how Greg James landed a job like that. All Des can offer to his distraught son is the information that Greg was terminated with out any severance from the company. No references were ever called for Greg since that termination. If anyone had the line from the company would have indicated Greg was terminated for ethical mishandling. As far as Des knew Greg James sunk his ship the day he decided to whisk Louis away to Nicaragua and take advantage. 

For Harry that was even harder to hear. How can someone do so much damage and yet still be successfu? Des could only listen to Harry and let him get the pain out. One of the things the weekly counseling taught Des and Anne was just this. How to listen. It had been weeks since Harry came to London. Weeks of Anne and Des coming to town twice weekly to do their counseling sessions with their son. Finally they were learning how to listen. Sometimes as a parent listening, not fixing, is the most important thing. 

... 

Harry nears the coffee shop. He cuts his father off as he asks if he call him back later. He's just at Louis' work. 

Des says yes, yes, "call me back. I want to know you are okay." 

Standing outside the shop Harry looks in through the large windows. He doesn't see Louis. Of course it's after 5. Louis worked the afternoon shift today. Off at five. 

Harry steps into Every Last Bean. The patrons are typical of late-day types. These were not the hasty get a latte after yoga and rush to work kind of people. These are hard core, coffee drinkers. True addicts. People who wanted java more than sleep. Why else would they be in a coffee shop at 5PM? 

With a quick scan Harry confirms, no Louis. He is standing there unknowingly looking falorned. Like an abandoned puppy. 

Eleanor appears at his side touching Harry's elbow, before he sees her. Her simile when he looks at her face is sincere and concerned. Maybe he fears he looks as freaked as he feels. 

"Harry? You okay?" 

Eleanor dips her head down with a turn, she's trying to read Harry who has immediately upon being discovered tried to make himself small. He's looked down. Embarrassed or shy. 

"Yeah, hi. Um. Did Louis go, I mean is he gone already, right?" 

Harry feels like a stupid child. It strikes him, that's what his first love, the teacher, his coach said. He was "nothing more than a stupid child" and now that is exactly how Harry feels. Stupid. Childlike. Raw. Naked. 

Eleanor is kind. Her hand remains on Harry's elbow. She squeezes it and she offers comfort. 

"He left a few minutes ago, Louis and Max. I think they were going to go to something with Niall, maybe? I think that's what Louis said." 

Harry is shaking his head like this makes sense. It's the second time in a short time he's heard something with Louis and Niall. The Max part is new. Whatever. All Harry knows is he missed Louis. It's only after he's graciously thanked Eleanor and heading to the door to exit that he catches himself. 

...he was rushing to the shop to catch a glimpse of Chad. Mysterious Chad. Underwear model-seeking Chad. 

Harry composed himself. He stands straight, adjust his hair because of its effect and turns to Eleanor and asks. 

"Eleanor? Max, did you say he left with Max? I thought he had something with Chad..." 

Eleanor is caught by the question. She looks back to Harry and her face is confusion. "Chad? I don't know anyone bybthat name. Least notbthat Louis has mentioned." 

Simple stated Eleanor turns and walks to the counter of the shop. Nothing of her reaction fuels Harry's fears but he had hoped it would have led to an epithany. 

Disappointed, Harry leaves.

He's uplifted that Eleanor said Louis left with a coworker which implies he was safe. Or at least not purseued but some faceless threat, a Chad. But seriously, what the fuck? Eleanor, manager and invested eaves-dropper of all details in her coffe shop had zero recognition of the name "Chad". How was this? Chad's habitual visit to Every Last Bean seemed commonplace. In the flat with Liam, Zayn and Niall a few nights ago, Louis identified a stalker as "Chad". Niall, Liam and Zayn were completely aware of who this is. How did any of this make sense?

Harry reaches for his phone as it coincidentally vibrates indicating he's gotten a text. It's from Louis. 

"Finished yet babe? Can't wait to see you, put my hands on you..." 

Harry replies. "Just went to the Bean. No Louis. (Sad emoji face.) Where are you?" 

"Studio with Niall. Watching him work. Meet me at home at ten?" 

Along with the inquiry from Louis are the words "need some" followed by two emojis. A red heart and an eggplant. 

Comforted, slightly, Harry decides to call Zayn. Zayn is not at work, as Harry knows Liam is unavailable since he is scheduled at the fire station until midnight. 

... 

This is how Harry finds himself at Zayn's studio at the university to pass time until ten. 

What Harry hoped would be a private passing of time with Zayn until Niall and Louis left the recording studio was nothing of the sort. Several other art students were working in the studio which is set up as one large art lab with work species for iindividual students set off of a grand open space where students had access to materials and tools supplied by the art department for common use. 

Harry gets the distinct feeling that these girls are more into false hopes about Zayn than focusing on their work. They seem to look for opportunities to flirt with Zayn, frequently asking him his opinion of their art in progress, constantly side-eyeing Harry like they resented this intrusion.

A couple hours later Harry has made it point to imply something about he and Zayn. He catches that the girls are understanding things anew when he hears one whisper to another, "I heard rumors Zayn was, you know, but why is it always the best looking guys? If that Harry is Zayn's boyfriend what girl has a chance!" 

Harry continues to play this illusion. One student artist seems particularly determined to mess in affairs not her business. She clearly isn't having it that Zayn is gay. She takes an unusual approach given Harry's subtle suggestions and desides to chat Harry up. Zayn knows her all too well. He's immune to her, wants nothing to do with her and completely ignores her. 

Soon Harry finds another hour has ticked by. That nosey girl is still talking to him like he's her new best friend. She's clearly about gossip, busily investing in people's private lives that are not her business. As the other students eventually finish what they were doing and leave she makes it a point to share with Harry some critical opinion of what she thinks of them or their work. She's not kind in her comments. Oddly, despite this, Harry kinda likes her. 

He understands that it's her insecurities that are at the root of her actions. Harry can relate to this. By example he thinks of how he feels put out that Louis is with Niall. Harry knows there is no unauthorized cell phone use in the sound studio is, but is so annoying that Harry has texted Louis three times and he's heard nothing back since the text earlier. Harry's feeling needy. What happened to them celebrating after his last exam like Louis promised? Sure, maybe Lous was intending on waiting until the next night when all five of their schedules align, but Harry has these insecurities. He's learned in counseling how he had a roll in lettting the unexpetable relationship happen, being a minor or not, he was making a choice. Learning to value himself and respect his worth is part of his healing. 

So with this random, mean girl Harry feels an unlikely bond. 

Harry gives up watching Zayn, checks his phone again. Nothing new from Louis. Harry is left to drift in his thoughts. This is when Chatty-Camilla decides she's done for the night. Harry can see how Zayn is looking forward to finally having the entire student studio to himself. Zayn is a frequently moody, a loner when he's in a creative phase. Harry, knows this as does Liam, Niall and Louis. 

Given that Camilla is leaving Harry decides to take his exit as well to give Zayn total freedom, besides Camilla was the only one paying any attention to him, so might as well go home. As a polite way of excusing himself Harry mentions to Zayn and Camilla that he's beginning to over think about his last exam of the week, the one he had today in Philosophy; he thinks he needs some alone time to process things. Immediate post-exam confidence on his effort is eroding and he wants to mull over his answers more. 

This is true. It's also ironic. For the exam questions he had to write essay answers that kind of pertain to his current predicament. 

The subject area for the first session of philosophy covered topics on "Philosophy of Human Decency". Simply stated, most of the course was asking a series of questions. What is decency? Why do humans value it? Should they? And so on. 

After both Harry and Camilla give Zayn a farewell they take the same route leaving the labyrinth of the massive art building. Harry doesn't know what comes over him but he asks this somewhat unlikeable girl a rather direct, slightly unkind question. Maybe it's his philosophy exam stuck in his head. 

"Why do smart, beautiful young women in modern society, defy their education and self worth to peruse men who have no interests in them? Like Zayn. I mean he looks like a god, but he's not going to date you, any of you. Why do that to yourself, why not find someone who's nice, supportive?" 

Harry sees the flaw in his question as he watches this young lady. She takes the question as a flirtation. He just called her smart and beautiful. Her hand reaches for his curls. He didn't notice it immediately because the question had her scowling at him. 

Oh no. What was he thinking is his reaction when he feels her hand twist a lock of his curls which is Louis' thing, not hers. 

Harry fails to pull back and he watches Camilla's expression change as she plays his hair. 

It could not have been better timing when his phone chimes with a text. Louis? 

Camilla drops her hand away and Harry looks at his phone. 

From Des: "Haven't heard from you. Are you okay? Let's talk about Greg at next session. How did the exam go today?" 

Harry replies. 

"Better now. With Zayn until, Louis is done. Exam today went okay. Guess I'm still learning human behavior. Girls are weird." 

Des has a surprising reply. It's an emoji but Harry thinks it the wrong one. But he knows as his father is hopelessly bad at this form of communication and at least it's a try from him to be a more casual father and not Mr. CEO. 

Harry almost replies back with something he'd never believed he could do. He almost texts an emoji heart then quickly decides not. Once he sends the reply, Camilla inquires. 

"Your boyfriend Zayn calling you back already?" 

What comes out of Harry's mouth is instantaneous. "Zayn's not with me. He's with some, um, he's got both a fireman and a leprechaun at home." 

Camilla laughs. "So this 'I'm gay' thing of yours is all an act! A way to weed out all the girls who fall for those dimples, those curls, the way those tight jeans cling to your thighs and booty, hum?" 

Camilla catches Harry of guard as she brings them together with her arms going around his waist. Her lips are on his before he can respond and for a reason he can't fathom Harry allows her slip her tongue into his mouth as her hands run wild gripping his bum. 

This feels all wrong. Very very wrong. It's a familiar feeling to is first kiss with his so-called girlfriend years ago. Nothing clicks. It's as unappealing as it would be to intimate kiss his own sister. 

The wall Harry puts up is palpable even though he doesn't pull back. It's Camilla who pulls back. Her face has the scow again. Upon seeing how Harry looks unmoved to reconnect she seems to get a new idea. Right. Harry didn't say he was with Zayn but he also didn't say he is with a girl. "Buy me drink at least?" 

Harry checks his phone again. 

Nothing from Louis. Still. 

"Underage." 

This seems to delight Camilla with a challenge as much as his being gay. She takes his hand, "I know a place." 

It's nine PM. Earlier Louis said he'd be home at ten. It's only now that Harry is again made curious about what Louis went to Niall's studio for earlier. After all, Niall was only a student. Doing a Uni internship. Real clients were handled so this business there was not so causal that random people hang out there. 

Camilla hands Harry another drink she made, because it's at her flat where they went. Harry doesn't know why he's here, why he's hanging with this girl. 

All Harry knows is that he wants Louis. 

Or explanations. About the studio. 

"So it was what?" Camillaasks to pick up their conversation. 

"Philosophy." 

"What is it?" 

"Exactly." 

"Why is it even a study?" 

"Are you asking if it's just a series of hunches and myths? That was an actual question on my exam today." 

After that reply Harry feels his heart hurt because he wants to discussing his day --- the exam, the creative writting professor's reaction to the essay, the fateful fortune of Greg James--- with Louis. Not this random girl. 

Another sip of the new drink and Harry feels woozy. 

As soon as Camilla makes another move, her second since their brief kiss, but more full body with her coming back to where he is sitting and putting her body to straddle his lap, Harry snaps out of his stupor. Why is he with this girl? Any girl? Anyone really other than Louis? 

Unceremoniously Harry pushes Camilla off his legs puts her on the door as he rushes to stand. 

"Still gay, even when drunk, Camilla. Sorry, just not into you. Boyfriend. I actually have a boyfriend. He's very pretty. And nice. And funny, a great lover, he gets loud, really loud during sex, and he's, he's...supportive." 

The scow is back on Camilla's face. "Right. And Zayn has two boyfriends. A fireman and a leprechaun. I got it." 

... 

Out the door within seconds Harry is quick to stride away wanting only to see Louis. 

What was wrong with him? Why did he do that? What the hell was he thinking? 

As if it was made by his will Harry feels his phone vibrate. There is a text from Louis and thankfully it's a reassuring one. 

Louis simply texted a red heart, an eggplant emoji, followed with the words "Home soon." 

Harry is as relieved to see this as he is perplexed by himself, angry at his inexcusable behavior. Harry wonders if his lips taste like the drinks Camilla made. He wonders if he smells like Camilla. Looking around while briskly walking Harry assesses what is the most direct route home to Louis. He's about to round a corner passing a bakery when he's stopped in his tracks by the glance he makes into a well-lit business at a late hour. 

This is highly unusual. Most bakeries open insanely early, like 3AM and are close at nighturing the dinner hour. It is almost ten and this place has every light on. Harry would walk on determined to make the most direct route home however what Harry sees inside stops him cold in his tracks. 

There in a booth of this tiny establishment wirh only a few tables, facing the window that Harry's looking through, is Louis sitting with Max from Every Last Bean. 

Max. The tall, good looking, very gay coworker of Louis'. Max with the long wavy hair, lanky and thin. Max with the nice mouth and puppy-like expression in his eyes. 

And there's more. 

It's hard for Harry to be sure of all he is seeing because some guy is standing squarely obstructing Harry's view. The man is muscular build, so his brawny stature obstructs the two lads but it seems like there is no personal space between Louis and Max. The man blocking view is actually adding to what Harry reads of the dynamics between Louis and Max. 

Louis looks sassy. His scorn is directed at the person towering over them at the table. The authority to the faceless man suggests he's dominant, maybe he's the owner? Maybe theses two stumbled in unwelcome during an unexpected after hour bakery emergency? How can Harry know? He can't hear them but he can read Louis. 

Everything in Louis' expression is pure distain and cheekiness. Harry knows this without hearing any of the three person conversation. Whatever the big man is saying Louis is disregarding. Harry has seen this look from Louis countless times when Louis is eviscerating a foe. 

To Louis' right is Max. Harry doesn't know Max. He only knows who Max is and a few things because Louis has never talked about Max like they are close. A sudden friendship seems odd. Also Harry remembers of Max that he was jealous of Louis when Harry went to see Eleanor back months ago to investigate Louis' disappearance. However it doesn't take a genius to see Max now has a connection to Louis. It looks like Max is disregarding the third person too. Something of his demeanor suggests he's following Louis' lead though. It's only a hunch, but Harry feels this is the dynamics from what his eyes see and his own eyes do not lie. 

Why Louis is being pure sassy-Louis to this man, why Max us looking uninterested in the man is hard to guess. One thing for certain, Louis and Max look like a couple. Like maybe this man is interrupting their date. 

Their bodies are knitted together. No separating space exists and, and this is just not, no not right. Harry steps forward. He thinks "go inside, something is wrong." Why else would Louis practically be in Max's lap? And whatthefuck, why are they in some bakery? 

Befor Harry can move he watches Max place a hand from where it was, which looked like on Louis' thigh under the table before them, and Max caresses Louis cheekbone with the Bacar of his hand. Louis looks away from the man and smiles at Max. 

That's it. Harry feels his eyes erupt with tears and he turns away to run for home.


	74. Assumptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is young and he makes foolish assumptions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You must read end notes before you get mad at Louis but it is a SPOILER. (For those who need it---HAPPY VALENTINES DAY

Waiting by the door for Louis to get home was impossibly hard. 

Harry has with his ear pressed to it listening for the sound of footsteps and keys. He is rewarded by those sounds just ten minutes following his sprint home. He is no longer out of breath from the run but he is in the very worst of any anxiety attack experienced to date. 

The counseling has taught Harry that these episodes of anxiety that had started after he first meet up with Louis in the States were because the conflict of wanting love and fearing a repeat of what he had painfully experienced with Caleb. Know what was at the root of the atttacks put him in control for the first time. Until now. 

Upon hearing Louis at the door Harry runs from the door to go sit like he is casually waiting. It's dark in the room but he's being chill. He hopes. Like he didn't see a thing earlier when passing a bakery.

Nope. He did not. Afterall he was only going by that bakery because he had been were he himself wasn't supposed to be. Camilla's. Flirting with her. 

He's pushed that memory aside pretending like the other one is not controlling his emotions. Absolutely no, he did not just see his boyfriend where Louis wasn't supposed to be, with someone else just like Harry was, touching each other, acting like more than just friends.

Louis comes in. Harry hears his name called and the sound of Louis dropping keys into a bowl near the front door. 

Louis comes to the big sitting room where Harry is and he has a hand behind his back.

"Harry what are you doing sitting in the dark?" 

Louis turns on a light. Without hesitation Louis comments on Harry's appearance. 

"Harry what's wrong babe? You look gutted."

Louis sets to the side what he had behind his back. It's a pastry box. Something about Harry redirected Louis to give up what he was bringing and he goes to Harry's side with concern on his face. Louis nearly climbs into Harry's lap and slides his arms around Harry with a move that terminates with his hands coming to frame Harry's face while threaded into a clump of long curls.

Without warning Louis makes this the start of a kiss. 

Harry wasn't expecting this. At that instant he just remembers that before what he saw at the bakery he had been worried he'd come home with residual signs of Camilla on him. Since the bakery, that was forgotten, he wornders if he smells like her but then as Louis is kissing him all Harry can focus on is the strain of smelling for the scent of Max. Forget about her, Harry thinks, that thing he did was nothing. 

But Louis' kiss is seductive. It's comforting and compelling. Before Harry's brain can register intent to fight over the thing with a Max his hands make their way as if it is an unbreakabke habit to be two bodies as one. They find fuel for eliciting more desire in running over Louis' body. This makes Louis wiggle fully onto position straddling Harry and those damn hands of Harry's go to bum and grip. Habit. Bad habit.

By the time the kiss wanes and they part Harry's determination to find clues of Max is softened.

Louis gives him a soft smile and peels off of Harry jus enough to reach for the box he'd put to the side. 

"Wait, before you tell me you're sitting in the dark sulking because of something like you fear you've flunked the exam, which we both know is impossible because you've been working so hard, let me give you this."

Louis holds the box between them.

The top of it has a fancy silver label. It reads "Fancy Fleurs Bakery". Louis opens the top and there is a beautiful little cake decorated with a rainbow of flowers. 

"I had this made for you. It's very, very rich. Isn't it pretty?"

"I, I, I am um, where is this bakery...you had this made for me?"

Louis smiles and nods, "It's your favorite. Your mum says." 

Louis takes a swipe across a blue frosting flower with a finger and immediately sticks his finger in him mouth while making a moan more sexually suggestive than suggestive of pleasing flavors. After that he removes a second flower, a pink one, and catches Harry as Harry's mouth opens to speak allowing him to insert the pink frosting in cutting off Harry's words.

Harry grabs the hand but whether it's how good the flavors are or how disarming Louis' guilt-free behavior is the deliberate grip seems misplaced. 

"So what is it babe? Why the sad face, in the dark, like your brooding?"

"It's..." Harry is about to make the exam sound grueling when he looks at the box. 

Fancy Fleurs was the name of the bakery. "You know, never mind, forget the exam. Fancy Fleurs? Never seen that around. Why there? Why not that place we like that's just around the corner?"

Louis has taken off another flower and is back to sucking it off his finger with as much sexual inuendo as he can. Plopping a tiny glob of it on Harry's adam's apple Louis sucks it off making sure to give Harry a burn on his neck that will linger befor he answers. 

"I wanted to surprise you. Besides, Max from work has a job there too."

Louis slides off Harry's lap and takes his hand. Picking up the cake he pulls on Harry. "Come on Curly. Eat some cake or eat some me. I can't wait any longer to have some of you."

... 

Harry wakes some hours later because there's something sticky in his hair and it caught on his pillow.

He slides out of bed and pads to the bathroom while thinking.

The way Louis painted a rainbow of frosting on him, licked and sucked it off all the while feeding Harry cake with his hands. The way Louis rode him. All of it was so pleasing and spontaneous and, and, and...just like normal Louis. Inventive, playful, loves to have lots of sex.

So why is he hung up on what he saw in the bakery? Harry asks himself.

Harry had countless times during their lengthy lovemaking to talk about this. He didn't. Despite the measures Harry took to hold off his fears while the toiled in bed there was something on revealing in his face. Or in his touch. 

Louis kept inquiring. Was Harry okay? Sure that he didn't need to talk about his exam? 

So many times there were questions from Louis and always Harry's answer was the same. 

"Everything is fine, tired maybe from exams and pressing hard through the week to study while having to write essays."

Still after each decline to share the truth of his concern Harry nibbled around the subject as it was knawling at him. He asked about the studio with Niall. He asked about bakery that the cake came from. He even asked about Max; this was a surprising uptick on a friendship Harry had said to drift out a question without stating it directly.

Nothing in any of Louis' responses made Harry feel uneasy. Replies didn't seem conjured or disceptive. In fact Louis was as he always had been, so into Harry. 

Once Harry reaches the bathroom Harry finds there is indeed still some frosty in his hair. It's surprising. After they had an extensive lovemaking session in bed with Louis having painted them both in a rainbow of frosting colors, completely decimating the small, rich cake, they took their lovemaking to the big shower. How any frosting survived that bathing Harry can't be sue but then he was mostly preoccupied with having to the wall of the shower and his body to help hold Louis up pinned there as Harry fucked up into him. It was a bit savage because of Harry's repressed brooding but Louis always took such things in stride and it did produce a second round of astonishingly intense orgasms for them both. 

After Harry gets the little resilient bit of sugary confection out of his hair Harry uses the toilet, reflecting on how perfect everything was about the sex earlier. Standing there analyzing something to which he has no answers he spies Louis' phone sitting beside the sink. Harry shakes off the last drop, washes his hands and the picks up the phone.

Do not spy, he thinks.

Okay maybe one look.

Harry opens messages and the first thing he sees is this. "Never would have thought you would fall so easily for a guy with too much hair but with that ass-licious bum of yours I can see this working for him. Call me sweet cheeks. I miss you already."

Harry nearly drops the phone in the toilet. 

What? 

His chest seizes and the room spins. 

There's no id in the phone for the number. There's only those words. 

After Harry finds himself clinging to the sink he hears Louis from in the bedroom. Louis voice sounds concerned.

"Harry?"

Quickly Harry places the phone down where it was. 

He looks at his reflection in the mirror. Harry's own curls don't amuse him. Studying them he can see that is hair is long, and like Louis liked to say his curls are "silken", but Harry wouldn't say they are "too much". No. Defiantly not. In fact Harry jokes how of the five of them he is the one most likely to go bald.

But who does have what can be described as "too much hair", long and thick. 

That would be Max. Max from Every Last Bean. Max from Fancy Fleurs. Max from tonight with his body too close too Louis' when Louis was only supposed to be "at the studio with Niall".

"Harry?" Harry hears again. 

This time Harry looks in the mirror and he doesn't see his weaken self. He sees his father. He sees anger and dominance.

"I'm here, coming, just found more icing in my hair. Washing it out."

Harry returns to the dark room and the bed. Louis is quick to embrace and pull Harry in.

"Your skin feels cold. Here let me spoon you." Louis says.

"Na, s'okay." Harry replies. He doesn't come to Louis' yearning. "Maybe I'll spoon you."

With that Harry finds it easy to place Louis' body to his liking. 

He chooses to roll Louis to a twist on his side and while Louis is grasping and pulling Harry to find Harry's lips accessible. Harry denies Louis. 

Instead of lips he directedly shoves down on Louis body with a hand on Louis upper body and anothe on his lower body to suggest Louis stay in this twist as as he is put, then Harry follows up with slipping a hand between arse cheeks. Harry uses spit to add some wetness and pushes his second finger of one hand into Louis with a driving force.

Louis is startled by Harry's aggressiveness but he's compliant in his response. 

"Thirsty for more?" Louis offers. Without protest Louis accepts keeping his body twisted while reaching up for Harry 

"At least like this you can bring your perfect cherry-colored lips to mine." 

Louis adds what is almosted purred encouragement, "so long without our hands on each other's bodies, your stupid exams..." 

The thought line is interrupted by Harry's finger which trusts a few times more recklessly into Louis like a shamefully unromantic preparation for what is to come. 

Harry comments, "Lover is so tight seemingly so soon after having had me deeply buried in him twice before." 

"Maybe because can't ever get enough," again Louis' thought is interrupted. 

Harry feels a deepening anger. An image of Max and Louis getting Louis "enough" to get through a week when Harry was precoccupied crosses his mind. The texted words "sweet cheeks" only made this worse.

With Louis lying like Harry put him it is impossible for Harry to avoid taking in all of the best of everything about Louis' sinful beauty. His bum is so round. When gripped as Harry does in a handful of squeezing touch it seems that could be buoyant because it's so full. Yes, indeed they are sweet cheeks, though the label seems kind of dated. Louis' thighs are strong and defined. In contrast Louis' waist is tiny. His chest is tiny too, and it's set off with his tiny nips that have goosebumps from the excitement Harry's arousing in his ravage manner of prepping. Adding to all this eductivenss is how Louis' collarbones standout because Louis just has this bone structure that is delicately crafted. 

Those collarbones. Harry is beguiled by them. The skin there is so perfect and ...sweet. Max's hand was resting there earlier when Harry saw them through the window. This means Max has felt their perfection. Harry lies much of his weight into Louis to bite the skin of those collarbones. He does it deliberately hard which makes Louis yelp. 

When he pulls back Louis eyes look with a searching depth into Harry's with Louis' hands going into Harry's hair. This is a split second of blue meeting green with puzzlement before Louis pulls Harry toward him and kisses him with desperation. 

Harry's response is to pull away when he feels he might be lost in the kiss. He puts his hand on the delicate jaw of his lover and forces Louis' face turned away, somewhat downward into the mattress. 

Once he's shielded from the questions in Louis' eyes Harry uses his hands to pin Louis more precisely. One hand presses Louis' leg to the bed where it rest on the lower side of his positioning. The other hand pulls Louis' other leg up to his shoulder with Harry's body keeping Louis' calf on his body there so Louis is in a twist and his legs are held spilt. Spread open like this it's easy for Harry to press the head of his stiff cock to Louis' entrance. He doesn't even have to use his hand which is good. Harry instead uses one to press down on the leg of Louis' which is on the bed. The other presses down on the Louis bicep of the area he'd sue to reach for Harry. This keeps Louis spread open for taking and not easily able to resist what Harry is making him take. 

Harry feels the heat when his cock presses against Louis' hole. With Harry's limited care Louis' body somewhere between tight and welcoming. Louis begins to gasp as soon as Harry begins pressing in on the tight rim of muscles. Harry uses his leverage of weight collapsing into maintain the position Louis is in and pushes harder on Louis' shoulder to force Louis to suffer this.

All Harry has to do to keep Louis spread is use his weight with each thrust into Louis while Louis still has one choice which is to take this. leg on Harry shoulder in the splits. 

And yes, Louis takes this.

Harry actually feels him yield. It's like the punishing nature to Harry's approach is welcomed. It reminds Harry of when they first began. Back then Louis was a one-dimensional slut for sex in some way to Harry; indeed it seems now Louis is such a willing cock-slut. 

"Such a needy slut for me Louis." 

Louis trembles visibly and arches without resisting staying in his spread, vulnerable prose as he replies through a quickening breath as Harry fucks him with long, slow, deep thrusts. "Been so long a week with you busy, can't blame needing much cock to restore.." 

Once Harry penetrates particularly forcefully Louis' thoughts trail off as he can only gasp and moan through the next few penetrations which Harry makes as relentlessly hard as he can. With that Harry is soon loosing sight of his anger because he's feeling this burning in his belly like he's going to come. 

A chant comes from Harry's lips. He's not sure as his pleasure sweeps through him but he thinks he moaned out a repeat of three , not very kind, words. "fuckingcockslut..." 

... 

Hours later when Harry wakes with first sign of morning light the chant comes to him shocking him awake. 

Did he really say that? 

Harry rolls over expecting to find he has no lover beside him but the clump in the bed reveals that Louis' left hand and the top Are signs that he remains deep asleep under the covers. Louis is softly breathing like he's in a contented sleep. How this can be, Harry can't fathom. 

No, absolutely, Harry certainly is not content. Not even after he punishingly took Louis. 

What the hell is going on with him? Why would he do that? Who was that taking Louis so forcefully and without any respect? 

Harry slips out of bed quietly and goes to the kitchen. 

Minutes later he has got boiling water coming ready and it selecting tea to bring on a tray to Louis when he is started by a soft touch on his shoulder. 

Harry spins around to see Louis standing there looking sleepy, hair toused like only Louis look after a night of long lovemaking. He's wearing a shirt of Harry's that ends such that Louis' penis can occasionally peek as he moves and his bum is exposed at the half way mark. It's one of Harry's favorite fantasy looks for Louis especially in the mornings. "Harry." Louis says softly. He keeps his hand on Harry's shoulder as Harry turns to face him and adds the other to the side of Harry's face. Once his hand is cradling Harry's cheek the thumb graces Harry's skin with the most gentle caress. 

"Babe, what's wrong? And don't tell me it is your exams."

Harry closes his eyes. He knows he has to tell Louis what he saw. Obviously Louis won't deny it because Louis came home with a cake. He openly admitted he saw Max. He also said it is from a place where Max works in addition to the Bean. So why not ask Louis what the meaning of the intimate-looking moment was about. 

Fear. Loss. Heartbreak. So Harry can't.

Louis prompts him by pulling them closer and saying, "Come on Harry. That wasn't like you the last time, last night. Something is bothering you, tell me."

Harry puts his arms around Louis too and he almost lets himself believe he can fully confide as he breathes in a comforting scent of Louis. "I saw, I..." 

And Harry looses his nerve. 

Louis pulls back to look at Harry's face because Harry has a hitch to his breathing that Louis knows the meaning of. His face is expectant and guiltless as it searches Harry's.

Harry swallows the words. "I'm not strong Louis, I saw...it was..."

Louis rubs Harry's cheek again and tries to make Harry look him in the face but Harry is looking down with his words locked in some pause. 

Curly it's okay, I'm strong enough for both of us. You make me strong. Whatever you need I'm here for you."

That makes Harry speak. He blurts it out. Keeping with what he was going to say Harry questions and in the question there is tiny hint of spite in his tone.

"Really Louis? And what do you need?"

Harry makes an implication but it's clear Louis isn't getting it.

"You Harry. You all I need, just you, sometimes so much it's hurting."

Louis pulls Harry's face to him and he kisses Harry softly but with intention and Harry is confused. He knows what he saw. But then Louis did admit to getting the cake from the bakery, but what Harry saw was not just a cake pick up, so what was it?

When Louis pulls back he keeps his hands framing Harry's face. With a mix of stern and tender he pries. "What is it? You said you saw something? What ever are you talking about? What has you like this Harry?"

Harry comes up with it. But it's not the thing. It's just a convenient reply.

"I saw Greg James' face plastered throughout the city on billboards and buses. That wanker has gotten a dream job in radio. All the while you still can't get out of the coffee shop because you have this huge missing part of your life that is thanks to him mostly, and that girl who accused you of being her baby father. How do you get around that? You can't go off to interview telling people you got abducted. That shoulda make anyone think you're crazy. Meanwhile Gre can get fired and still get a cake job! After everything he did. How the hell does that happen?"

Louis looks blank with the information for a second or two. Then he replies with calm.

"I know about that Harry. I saw the ads. And actually I ran into him two days ago. Well, more like he deliberately ran into me."

"What? When, where? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Think about it Harry. It was the day before your last exam, the day you were finishing your last of three massive essays by deadline. You were swamped. I figured it could wait. Besides he doesn't matter. His life is not tied to mine, ours."

Harry is in disbelief. It makes sense that Louis wasn't burdening him because Louis is so fiercely protective by nature. It also infuriates Harry because it suggests that Harry is treated like a child. True. He technically still is. 

Louis continues on. "I'm tied to you Harry. Like an anchor to a ship. But Greg is only some arse I want to forget. You're all I need. Sometimes it's tto much to be away from you, your smell, your touch, your beauty, you're lovely heart. I'd take a dagger for you I love you so much."

Harry feels warmed. He almost asks about the thing he saw with Max because Louis is seeming so sincere. Then Louis throws him off because of what he says next.

"Besides it's even more weird than you think. Greg came to the Bean to tell me. I don't think he meant to gloat but he had someone with him and there was some obvious gloating from his partner, Greg's new boyfriend. They wanted me to know how happy they are together. When I tell you this you won't believe me. Again I want you to remember. We have each other, tied up like two ships, okay?"

Harry can't wait now. He's captivated by intrigue. What could be more weird. So weird Louis waited until the exams and essays were completed?

"Okay."

"Greg's new boyfriend is Michael. Two-tone hair, Australian Michael. I kid you not. They walked in to the Bean together holding hands, ordered coffee, told me about the job Greg is starting and wanted me to see how happy they are together. They thought it was some funny small world story stuff how they met. Apparently when it came out that Michael had been at Bar 3, Greg said he knew me. I guess they met at some employment service. Anyway they are very, very happy together and Michael wanted to make it a point to reveal this. Kind of tragic isn't it? And yet hilarious. I think they are going to be perfect for each other. Told them so and gave them their coffee for free as my blessing, sent them on their way. They both looked a little less smug with that." 

Louis is giggling over the story. He seems truly pleased with himself for disregarding them. Standing in the kitchen this little lions Louis looks so damn cute to Harry. Even more sexy and appealing than the way he looks in the shirt is how Louis seems impervious to a deliberate attempt to scar him. He simply gave no amount of fucks. 

After all both Greg and Michael did this announcement to be spiteful to him. And yet Louis was still intact. Harry decides that he wants to be like this too. Harry pulls Louis into him and holds him. Any need of bringing up the bakery scene is gone. Louis would never hurt Harry; he'd never be like Caleb.

... 

Before dinner Harry is getting another shower. He's looking forward to the plan the five of them have for officially celebrating Harry's great effort in school. They are going to have some food at a place just down the street that they all really like, go by an art opening Zayn that has to make an appearance at and then maybe out for dancing and drinks. 

Louis was already dressed to go and he looked so adorable in his sporty style. 

When Harry gets out of the shower he finds Louis' phone again laying on the sink which is becoming a common place for him to leave it. 

What comes over Harry he will regret. 

He pick it up. Reads the texts. 

Fortunately the "sweetcheeks" text is gone. Louis had deleted it. 

Unfortunately, Harry discovers, there are others. 

"Sorry Lou, I know you don't want Harry to find out about this yet." 

"Yes, stupid. So don't be so needy." 

"He annoys me. And the way he wants arse. I can't stand thinking about him touching yours!" 

"Let me deal with it in time." 

"It scares me. Can't it end soon?" 

"Yes, stupid. DONT BE SO NEEDY!" 

Harry sees the id for the person texting Louis in this thread. It's Max. Harry drops Louis' phone in the toilet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming next:  
> Harry regrets now having dropped Louis' phone. It wasn't like he meant to. But now he knows what Max and Louis were texting about. And he knows the first text he intercepted in spying was not what he thought it was either. 
> 
>  
> 
> Mr "sweet cheeks" was most likely the third person at the bakery that night with his back to Harry when Louis went to get the cake. He is also the person that Max and Louis were texting about when Harry spied a second time. Harry foolishly had made the assumption in reading the series of texts that Max and Louis were having an affair and talking about him. 
> 
>  
> 
> All of that was an illusion of Harry's own creation because Mr Sweetcheeks is a person who has been stalking Max. The obsession started with wanting Max to be a model and then everything unfolded from there. Louis has been running some sort of interference for Max for reasons even Louis' friends and coffee shop coworkers don't completely understand.
> 
>  
> 
> But where was Louis now? If only Harry hadn't dropped the phone. He could call Louis which he desperately needs to do. Harry has just learned that Mr Sweetcheeks is a person referred to Louis by the name "Chad". 
> 
>  
> 
> Chad is not his real name either. Among Louis, Niall, Liam and Zayn they call him "Chad" just in case discussion of him is overheard by Harry.
> 
>  
> 
> At the coffee shop called Every Last Bean the name they write on Chad's drink orders is "Caleb". And everyone at the Bean find him to be unnervingly questionable.


	75. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry goes deeper into distrust before he discovers, rather late, just how much his smol, lion-heart Louis will go to protect him. (Foreshadowing. Trigger warnings coming soon.)

The dinner at Harry's favorite restaurant is fast for a nice dinner but for Harry it feels like an eternity. He no longer wants to be out with friends; to Harry there is no cause for celebration. He'd like to be home wrigging Louis' pretty neck. 

Harry watches Louis eat. Louis is oblivious to Harry's mood because Liam has decided to talk more than eat having come off of having had a very exciting two day shift at the station which he is wanting to share. So Liam rambles on and Harry stares at Louis with less thirst and more animosity. The stories Liam tells has everyone but Harry absorbed so they don't notice his demeanor. 

As always, Louis is totally unlike most other men in how he eats, Harry thinks. It's cute, delicate and feminine. He takes small bites and covers his mouth if he laughs when or when he chews a large bite. If it were not for evidence of the deceit Harry would fall in love with him all over again just watching him at dinner even though it's nothing different than he's seen countless times. 

After dinner the five of them all go to an artist opening night at art gallery of one of Zayn's friends. 

This is more hell for Harry. As a small consolation Harry is at least able to start sneaking drinks as trays of libations are carried past him and beautiful young women hired by the caterers made no effort to deny him a drink. Mostly it takes just a smile and the way he runs his hand through his long luscious locks that make them forget to card him. Another part his appeal is undeniably because of Harry's attire. In his glitttery gold paddock boots, fashion jeans and floral YSL shirt he looks much like a model and legal drinking age. Given his look and Harry's natural charisma, Harry succeeds in nipping more than a few glasses of wine. 

It is at the gallery that Niall and Liam began to notice an oddity to Harry's behavior. Zayn being much preocccpied as this was his art community of friends, did not see the change.

By the time they leave the gallery, settle in at the club for the official celebration in Harry's honor the entire group, including Zayn, is aware how Harry is acting odd. To break the moodiness Liam assumes their usual game of ordering drinks, Harry's alcohol free, yet allowing Harry opportunity to sipping the other four lad's drinks to his discretion. Liam hopes Harry will loosen up with libation. Eventually they all caught on that this was not the case. They still didn't know how much he was drinking earlier so they can't get a feel of where Harry's head is. 

No one knows that Harry suspects that Louis is cheating on him; Harry is hurting because of the fear that Louis is only waiting to dump him for Max Hurd. Waiting for what, Harry doesn't know. The texts he saw only suggested something was going to happen. Like Louis was trying to work something out.

The four are trying to lighten Harry's mood up even though this only makes Harry more insulted with feeling patronized but them. He's attitude becomes more dark, moody, uneven; more threatening than any of them had seen before. And these were the lads who came to know each other through the shared experience of Bar 3. They knew how Harry could be, dark and predatory, at least before Louis came along. 

"My god," says Liam at one point to Zayn and Niall as they watch Harry and Louis on the dance floor, "...even on Harry's worse days back at the ranch I've never saw him look so full of malice. Something is really off." 

Harry's behavior is precisely why Louis excused he and Harry from their friends company and pulled Harry to the dance floor. Harry had been snarky and unkind, making comment after comment to put the others down. That had no reason but it escalated as time went on. Harry was especially chippy at Louis, but not giving a reason why despite Louis asking repeatedly. After many of Harry's denials that "something was bothering him" Louis decided they should work it off. Maybe Harry was just really too drunk. None of the older four knew for sure how much he'd drank at the gallery. So, yes, maybe it was alcohol. 

When Louis took Harry to dance floor he was determined to draw the problem out. 

Their bodies move rhythmically together and for awhile both are lost in that. It is so much so that neither Harry nor Louis notice when the three lads still at their table are joined by some work friends of Louis' from The Bean. Driven by mutual attraction, enjoying each other's body in contact, Louis begins grinding into Harry. Harry slowly loses himself in this connection and leans into Louis with his taller, lanky form. For a time Harry seems placated. Perhaps this is what he needs, Louis assumes. 

The tranquility is disrupted when Harry has the unfornate cause to hear in a pause of the music stream as a man dancing near he and Louis makes a reference to what Louis' body is doing on Harry's. 

"Ow! See-dat," exclaims the man dancing with a girl next to them, "...grinds that sweet booty on his mate like a fucking master cock tease..." 

What more the man shouts to his date is lost because it's quickly too loud again given the music's mutedness was only very temporary. 

Harry is sure, that aside from the man's dancing partner, he alone heard this comment. Louis never not stopped pressing back into Harry. He simply is enjoying himself. When Harry's hand comes to run up the front of Louis' body beginning at his inner thigh he passes deliberately slowly over Louis' crotch. Louis is hard in his jeans from their dancing. Continuing slowly with trailing his hand up over Louis' lithe little chest Harry moves until his hand to comes rest gripping on Louis' shoulder. The man who blurted out about them is now a complete dumbstruck observer. He is enthralled and watching them more intently than he's focusing in on his own partner and her needs. 

Harry makes eye contact with his audience. The man licks his lips like he's grateful for the show and wanting for what Harry has in his hands. Meanwhile Louis is transcended, grinding against Harry more seductively. Harry guesses that maybe even Louis has his eyes closed because he lolls his head back against Harry's chest like they are the only two people in the world. 

Harry pulls on Louis' tee at the shoulder. It's a loose neck shirt like Louis often likes to wear. Easily this tug exposes more of the skin, the architecture of Louis' collarbone, his neck. With Harry's hand gliding on up to Louis' neck cupping Louis' defined jawline the inviting idea is implied of how perfect all of this is. It needs no more suggestion to completely rivet the onlooker's focus on what Harry will do next. The man licks his lips again. He's admiring Louis' exposed neck. It's glistening with perspiration. HAry knows what this man is thinking. 

His watchful eyes widen when Harry smiles directly at him and winks to him like to show off. Harry feels like the predator he was when he was sent to Bar 3; the lost boy who used sex as a weapon. Only, yes, he feels more betrayed and broken. 

Harry bends down and bites Louis' neck near its intersection with shoulder just above the collarbone. 

It's a deliberately, maliciously hard a bite. 

The effect on the man who is watching with thirst in his eyes is missed by Harry because Louis buckles from the searing pain and slaps a hand over his neck as he spins around stunned to confront Harry. 

 "Whatthefuck Harry! Fucking rip my throat out next time! What'ts your deal?" 

Louis steps away so he can see Harry face to face. Harry blushes, realizing that he has no excuse. He was angry because some bloke was fantasying about his lover and after reading the texts that is like pouring fuel on the fire. 

 Louis pulls his hand away briefly to look and before he sees there is blood on his hand from the bite Harry sees there is an actual red, bleeding bite mark. Turning back to the table and their friends, Harry says, "I'm sorry Louis, sorry. I'm going to sit down, dunno that I feel so good." 

Louis catches Harry's arm. Being older and as a rarity for him, acting responsibly and older, Louis says firmly and lovingly, "Okay love, but just water at the table, no more alcohol. I'll get the bar to send some another pitcher of water to the table and meet you there after I go get some ice for this vampire bite you laid on me. Fuck Curly that hurt." 

...

At their table Zayn, Liam and Niall are in conversation with three of the girls, Sandy, Kelsie, and Mia who work at the Bean. 

Harry sits and immediately begins drinking water. The three girls light up at seeing him but they are well schooled about Harry. He only has eyes for boys. Particularly the boy named Louis. Ongoing conversation between the six resumes. 

Harry thought the concluding words he heard coming out of Mia's mouth as she was the one talking when he sat were the words "obsessive Creepy Caleb." 

The followup blurted out from Niall was like a nonsensical reply because all three of the girls looked astonished at him like he'd just said a thing as bizarre as "next week I'm going to donate my life to science by allowing doctors to do a double a brain transplant with me and a pig". 

That was not what Harry heard him say, but the point is the three ladies all looked dumbstruck by Niall's inconsistent comment. Also, Harry thinks he saw Zayn sign something to Mia like the "cut it" sign when at that instant Eleanor from the Bean drops into an open seat beside Harry making their number at the table seven. 

Her breathlessness suggests she was in a rush. 

Sandy asks if she out of breath because she had to park blocks away. Eleanor shakes her head no and seems only wanting to catch up on the party. "Hey, where's the shots?" 

Her easy laugh suggests she really needs to make up for lost time as the other girls have drinks already. Impatient for delay she is quick to grab the beer sitting in front of Liam and just about gulps half it in one drink without asking. Once it's down she goes on to ask of the three girls from the Bean who proceeded her "So you caught them all up on tonight's adventure with psycho Caleb and Max?" 

This time Harry most certainly catches the name "Caleb". Concurrently Harry also clearly hears Niall make a half-hearted or belatedly mediocre attempt to correct Eleanor to say the name "Chad" meanwhile Liam and Zayn are both signing "cut it" down low. 

"What? Did I miss something?" 

"Chad, his name is Chad." Liam says to Eleanor like she is stupid. 

 The four women look all dumbfounded. Eleanor is not seeing how death stricken the look is on the Liam, Niall,and Zayn's faces. She just blurts out clarification nit liking Liam's correction. 

"Look I know for awhile Louis jokingly called Caleb by the name Chad to give him the idea of how little fucks Louis gave about Caleb's overbearing, self-importance, but all of us know his name is Caleb. He's there at the Bean everyday. Either he's hitting on Max or trying to impress Max he's legit by making it seem like he wants to represent Louis in a modeling contract too. But as fake as Louis thinks he is, his name actually really is Caleb. I've seen it on his debit card. We all have. Caleb Harlow. He's 31 he told me. Prior to his career in the industry of booking agent he was a wrestling coach for years which probably explains why Caleb, and it is C A L E B, likes to stand around and flex his muscles hoping the gay boys will think he's hot." 

 Zayn, Liam and Niall are mortified. But nothing compares to the way Harry looks. He's pale as he can be and he begins shaking such that he's hard to understand. 

"What? Caleb Harlow? He's been a coach? He's been hitting on Max? And Louis?" 

Liam is quick to move to take Harry's side and wrap his arms around Harry. His training tells him Harry is unstable. Zayn and Niall look deeply concerned but it's too late now. The secret they hoped to keep is out. 

"What's wrong Harry?" Eleanor asks finally realizing there's something to this she didn't know. "Yes, Caleb Harlow. That is his name. I don't remember how it came up that he was a wrestler but he talks big about himself a lot. That's probably why Louis was quick to dismiss him as false. But he's been obsessing over Max because he goes for tall, thin model types. He likes wavy or curly hair, Max's kind of look. One day Max used the 'I'm already spoken for' approach to make Caleb buzz off. Max claimed his boyfriend is the most stunning creature and when pressed by Caleb he said Louis was with him. They've been playing this game ever since because then Caleb went from ogling Max to trying to wow Louis. Keeps saying Louis has too big a bum for his liking but it's ideal for underwear ads. He's a bit disgusting." 

Harry looks at his mates and he's breaking up inside. "And you three knew all this and didn't tell me?" 

 Liam explains. "Harry, when we found out Louis said he wanted to check out out if this was a person that meant something to you. He was concerned about something in your past and wanted to protect you in case this was..." 

"Was what Liam? What! Did he say?" 

 Harry jumps to his feet. His eyes are spinning searching but not seeing. He's panting and sweating profusely. 

It takes all three of them to contain Harry because he is physically overwhelmed with a manifesting anxiety attack. The three lads are able to get Harry back to a seat with Liam and Zayn bracketing him in an embrace. Everyone is talking over each other comforting him. Niall has produced a napkin that he's wet and places on the back of Harry's neck because Harry has gone from the palest of cold white to the most flushed of red heat. 

When Harry is able to speak he says low and gravely with everyone listening . "Louis. Where's Louis? Where is he?" 

 Eleanor offers an answer and now she too looks nervous, almost afraid to speak. 

"When I came in from parking the auto I saw Louis at the bar holding ice on his neck. I told him we tried get a hold of Max who was coming here with us but Max wouldn't answer his the door at his flat. We had to come on over here without him. I told Louis that I was worried because Max said to me on the phone when we left to collect him that he had been waiting outside for the ride but he had to go inside. He said he went back inside to wait when he saw Caleb. When I told Louis about this he just ran out the back door. I'm sorry, I was out of breath when I sat down here because I ran to catch Louis outside so to give him my keys to use my car. He's, he's gone to get Max. He said to tell you he'd be right back...don't bite anyone." 

"The don't bite anyone" comment would have been really funny to Harry if he were not positively certain this was anything other than really really bad. What are the chances of two Caleb Harlows, who both happen to like the same type of lads, both having been wrestling coaches, both about the same age, both arrogant pricks? 

Worst of all. Harry never told anyone yet, not any counselor's, not even Louis, how Caleb did more than take Harry's heart discard Harry. He broke Harry in other ways too. 

  

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay trigger warnings about rape will apply for the NEXT chapter following this one.
> 
> I've promised a happy Larry romance but not one without some pain along the way
> 
> Xoxo and kiss the one you love.


	76. Lover's Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Massive TRIGGER warnings. 
> 
> Caleb brutally rapes Louis to draw Max out. 
> 
> ...

Louis arrives to Max's flat. He leaves Eleanor's motor car in the unloading zone, runs to the door and rings in for Max to buzz the street side main door open for a guest. 

Max doesn't respond. 

Louis hits the button again to ring Max's flat. 

No reply.

Louis steps back far enough that he can see a window he thinks is the one to Max's flat. He picks up a small rock and throws it.  


After several unanswered attempts Louis goes back to Eleanor's car. He's not sure what to do. He wishes he had his phone; when he and Harry left earlier having searched everywhere they Louis never found his phone. Desperate for any way to get Max's attention Louis tosses items around in Eleanor's car searching for what, he doesn't actually know, a magic wand perhaps, anything, but then Louis feels someone.... 

Someone's presence behind him. 

Louis stands up, turns, finds he is face to face with Caleb.

"Sweetcheeks. Here to pick up our boy?"

Louis feels pressed. He refrains to move from the place he is wedged by Caleb and a close proximity created with the door to the car open.

"Chad," Louis says with a total distain, "out sulking around in search of random innocents to sell your modeling contracts to?" 

The words "modeling contracts" were particularly well executed with sarcasm. 

Caleb blinks slow taking in the components of Louis' insults. It's clear That Caleb hates the deliberate misnomer Louis uses. He dismisses it because he knows he has Louis trapped. 

"What do you say to us going together to invite Max out? He's been denying my gracious invites." Caleb finishes his words with hooking Louis' arm to Louis', pulling Louis away from the security of the car.

At the exterior building door they buzz Max's number. Again, no answer.

"Call him down Sweetcheeks." 

Louis doesn't even think to say he doesn't have his phone. He just flips Caleb off with the gesture and the words. "Fuck off."

When Chad hits Louis picking him up in process Louis never sensed it coming. First he feels the grip. Second the lift. Third the contact with the exterior building door. And maybe it is more of a push than a punch but whatever it is it takes Louis' breath away. A sharp pain registers ocross his back and noteably at the back of his head.

When Chad releases, Louis drops to the ground breathless.

Bending down Chad orders, "Pull out your phone Sweetcheeks, and call Max down. The three of us can have a little private party."

Louis rolls painfully to his back and states the truth. It should be obvious. He has no phone. "No phone fuckhead, mustof left it at home, Chad."

The "Chad" was offered with more deliberation and sass once again. Caleb is frustrated by it. He kicks Louis. 

Again Louis never sensed a blow coming. He was still adjusting to effects of the first hit against the building.

"Fine. Sass me all you want you little twink." Chad scoffs and pulls Louis up. 

He pushes Louis with unnecessary force against the building edifice again. Pinning Louis is easy for Caleb despite Louis' attempts to struggle free. 

"Sweetcheeks, give it up. Former wrestling coach, remember? Got you by a hundred pounds, okay. But Max clearly likes twinks, maybe it makes him feel masculine when he's so lovely and pretty too, so let's you and me give him a show okay? See if we can torment him to coming out on his own to come join us."

Caleb has Louis in a grip that frankly is nothing short of iron from Louis' point of view. He brings Louis to Eleanor's car and when Louis makes the first sign of resistance Caleb cold cocks him. 

...

Louis wakes to the feelling his body is bare, exposed.

It's a sensation that puts him in fight mode. He has little time to react before he feels there is no use of his hands, because they are bound, and his body is split with the sensation of someone pushing their cock into him as he lies face down on some hard surface from which his legs drape down just allowing toes contact with floor. 

This first trust is fast, hard and goes painfully deep to the point of bottoming out as a stop. 

Louis blacks out again he thinks, maybe, but the hand which rips his hair as it pulls his head back makes him regain focus even though the penetration has him shuddering and releasing a scream.

Caleb's large chest comes to lie over Louis' back pressing all the weight down on Louis so it is hard to get a breath under the burden of the weight.

"Oh, Sweetcheeks. You are truly beautiful. So good. So tight and, hate to admit, because m' more into boy bodies than these curves like you have, but you are so deliciously scrumptious sweetie, truly scrumptious." 

"You know I needed to open your tiny treasure up a little with my tongue 'cause you're so very tiny, wanted to use my tongue for effect in case you waked, but you slept, so this is a wake up call Sweetcheeks. Don't want you to miss feeling how it is to take the Coach's cock for the first time. Even if this sweet hole of yours is still maybe too tight for this big a dick. Your burning I bet, yeah, feeling me drive this monster inside you, hum? Coach got impatient when you stayed passed out, needed to get busy to fill your pussy with my cum. Maybe after, let me eat it out of you, fuck you again with my cock, you'll love that like my boys always do. Maybe after you take my first load, I'll milk that prostrate of yours, hum, you'll like that?" 

Louis makes an effort to resist. He jerks back in the ties but it's futile. He feels how Caleb slides out away from pushing in him too deep while also finally lifting his chest off from pressing down on Louis' back. Any relief from discomfort with that is soon lost. Caleb puts one hand to Louis' throat as the other grips Louis' bum. Caleb's hand squeezes Louis' full bum like he is kneading bread dough instead of flesh. Fingers bite into Louis' arse. Caleb follows this minute of "fondling" with a counter effect striking lash as to be as intentionally painful as Caleb can make it.

Louis yelps from the burn even before Caleb follows with worse; he drives his hard cock back in again to hit bottom with so much force that Louis looses any consciousenss he had attained even fleetingly. 

Impaling Louis Caleb rolls his to seat his cock more deeply in Louis like he's trying to stretch Louis' hole then Calebs stills all movement deeply buried in Louis. All this time Caleb enjoys gripping Louis' neck feeling Louis' jugular rapid in pulse. Slowly he begins to gently rub a hand over Louis' arse like he's contemplating executing another slap.

Reviving some focus with this agony extending Louis begins panting, gasping from the strain of Caleb who continues to stay deeply buried in him like he's waiting for something maybe feeling Louis' rim adjust. Maybe not. Maybe he's enjoying Louis' faint noises. 

Eventually Caleb begins a sadistic narration.

"Sweetcheeks. You really are so voluptuous and yet you're so tiny and small. Curvy and yet... it's intriguing. My boys of choice, like Max, have always been so lanky and ...boyish. This is a change, it's nice though. Cause your so tight. Sporty. Easy to handle. Maybe we can share Max, hum? Wanna send him some video of this? Bet he'd have to rush right over to join us. Let's give Max a taste of what he's missing, yeah? Here, I sent him the one I made first, only a few minutes ago showing you when I ate you out. Max can hear in it how good I think your taste is on my tongue, he can listen to me make slurping sounds when my face is buried in your heat straining to lick into your velvet walls. If only you had waken for me then, it would have been absolutely perfect. But your boy will like it anyway. Even if you were entirely too quiet. Because you're so pretty getting used, I think he'll like this."

Louis protests with a retort about the idea of "Caleb's boys" that it is nearly inaudible but remarkable pointed. Louis has got to say it. "You're boys? Yours! Max is not your boy, not now not ever. Like Harry was not your boy, not then, not ever!"

It barely registers to Louis that Caleb pulls his dick completely out of his body. Louis immediately focuses more clearly with the tiny relief. He wants to fight. Then it's like the world flips as his body is turned to be positioned with his bruised back down and his chest up. Caleb uses his body wedged back between Louis' legs to help reestablish pinning Louis on what Louis realizes is a table or desk but again Caleb puts a hand back on Louis' throat.

"Harry? Harry who?"

Louis' eyes tear. It's not the choking. It's not the pain he suffering. It's knowing this person is raping him only out of hate just as Will described Peter taking Francie. Any mention of Louis' lover's name makes him determined that he has to resist this for Harry. 

Louis fears for the first time like he's never feared before because Caleb is so wrapped up in his obsession that it's like Louis is nothing, no boundaries exist in how far Caleb will take this. Like Peter did with Francie.

Louis realizes the danger but refuses to yeild to it. Despite the pain of what Caleb is doing to him at this exact moment Louis wants to ignore everything and defend Caleb's prior victim. Even though Louis guesses the tingling of some,sensation on the back of his neck is more than sweat, maybe his head is bleeding from where he made impact with the exterior of Max's building when Caleb slammed him into it. He also has pain where Caleb kicked him. And what is that other pain, Louis wonders? Is he bleeding from Caleb's penetration or has Caleb come inside him once already when he was unconscious? Louis pushes the sensations aside. He defends his lover. 

"The boy Harry Styles, the one you Caleb, that you broke, but you didn't. Even though you wished it. The boy from Cheshire who's heart you played, used and cast aside. For what? For some dream of what you could never achieve, hum? Well guess what, Harry has the love he deserves. He's happy, unlike you'll ever be, happy like you'll never be able to use Max to try to be..."

The next hit makes Louis' face feel like he is a painting made by Picasso. He's sure it's broken something. He's not able to move after the hit other than to strain for holding onto to consciousness which is perhaps good. Caleb does the unexpected. He pulls back after delivering the blow to stand and look stunned by Louis' words. 

Caleb's next touch after the momentary pause is again unexpected. His hand takes Louis' cock, gently to aid taking it into his mouth. As he begins sucking on the flaccid dick he makes occasional laps eleswhere with us tongue. Over Louis' balls, down to his entrance, he lifts one of Louis' leg to seek more access as he makes what is like a lover's offering or attempt to please and arouse. His tongue even goes to Louis' pained hole like he wants to be soothing away some of the pain he'd inflicted. 

Pausing this, Caleb speaks again sounding different. Less threatening. 

"Okay Sweetcheeks. So let's do this for Harry okay?" 

Caleb turns on his camera he's mounted, his gopro. "Let's show Harry, or Max, or whoever else you're ufcking how beautiful you are. Let's show them your last great fuck."

Louis feels pain as Caleb returns to again push a hard cock into him, even though it's less violent, a slow penetration for show. 

Louis knows a story of someone being used like this. It's what Will described happened to Francie. 

Even though Caleb is making his penetrations rhythmic and pleasing for the camera, each movement hurts a little more than the one before. 

Louis starts tearing.

Caleb feels how Louis is weakening and he begins coaching, literally coaching. 

It's too late. Louis feels cold. He feels numb. He hears Caleb's words to him. Ironically they are kind and complementary. 

Louis' pain and fear takes his mind back to his past most fearful memories. The night in the mountains when the hillside gave out as they searched for Niall in a storm. Then a few days later riding again on Sweetie to return to the ranch. He remembers then the song Harry made him think of. How it transcended him.

Caleb's wanks on Louis soft dick with his hand as he fucks into Louis. Louis sings to himself to make this go away. It's in a broken, weary, almost too frail a voice "I don't need a ...if I got you, baby if I got you, you're gonna catch me...".

Words catch in Louis' throat when he feels Caleb's seed filling him, focus is lost and he just lies there trying to remember how to breathe. 

"Fucking good pussy boy you are, little thing, so good. Your voice is so frail, it's erotic as hell. Still though, coach would love to see that little prick of yours harden for me."

Comment made, Caleb pulls out, cum drips out and down. Caleb grips Louis' bum, spreading Louis some to admire his work. 

Louis feels a finger tracing his pained rim and hears Caleb make a sound like he's put his come-drenched finger into his own mouth. 

"Mmm' this is so good. Max you would love eating my seed from this hole, it's so, so good."

Clearly, Caleb is still recording as he moves away. Out of view Louis hears him pushing some furniture around. For the first time Louis considers where this is. It's not a house or a flat. He gets the sense that this is a photography studio. Maybe the fucker really is an agent. Louis wonders how many men, or children like Harry, this monster has brought to a private spot for "modeling" only to use them.

Then Louis hands are freed by Caleb from the binding. Without the support he slips to a hard floor. "Tisk, risk, tisk Sweetcheeks."

The shift of staging was just that because Caleb positions the camera anew on a stand, picks Louis up, pulls Louis tight into him and sits on a chair. Louis' small back is against the sweaty, hairy chest of Caleb's massive form. Louis' legs are dangling off either side of Caleb's thighs. Louis feels somehow powerless from what he's endured despite being free from the bounds that held him before. It's likely that his arms are not responding from loss of circulation for so prolonged a time.

"In this position" Caleb says, "a man can enjoy the power of being able to so easily lift a tiny cunt with each thrust he makes. He can enjoy the feeling of a full, muscular thighs like yours Sweetcheecks against the top of his thighs, your fabulous bum against his pelvis, because there can't possibly be enough ways to admire all that is so superb about this body of yours."

Louis feels Caleb slide his cock, which is still erect, back into his hole with ease. Almost, Louis considers a plead, "a please don't". Almost. 

Instead Louis uses all his fight in a singular, resilient, gasped remark. "Wanker." 

Caleb callously laughs. "This gives us yet another way to show our friend Max what I like, lookup Sweetcheeks. Your pretty face is to hard to see with your head hanging forward like that. Look up. See the camera in front of us, see, look! With you pressed back into my chest we can show Max things like how it's so easy to feel everything about the architecture of your twinky body." 

"See this Max, I can place fingers on point of hips and pull him onto me at any pace making his hips rock while he's seated on my big dick. I can wrap my massive hands around our little Sweetcheeks so easily such that each finger comes to rest where they can count individual ribs because Sweetcheeks is so small, so fit and thin. Aww, but look he has these bruises, some blood all because you wouldn't come down from your tower to play. Should have answered my phone, hey Max, wishing now you were here?"

"With his back to my chest I can easily reach up and twist nipples, trace the prominence of his fucking amazing collarbones or move Sweetcheeks to caress a cheekbone. We all love admiring these these sculpted cheekbones when we're at the coffee shop don't we, and his lashes, don't we love these little things Max?"

Louis is aware that as Caleb narrates this Caleb has yet to do more once buried inside him other than put his dick in and rock his hips once for illustrative purpose. Soon enough Louis' discomfort is unfortunately magnified. Caleb slides two fingers in beside his very much unquenched, deeply buried erection. This hurts. It's too, too much and Louis moans out loud in pain.

"Moreover, Max what I liked is how I can easily force a pair of fingers into that hole I wrecked earlier, coat them with my cum, put them in his mouth to feed him some like this, make his moans stop as I demand he suck them clean of the taste of me." 

Caleb's fingers silence noises Louis makes but tears begin again as Louis can't help imaging if this is gong to ever stop. Again he thinks of the story of Francie. Whether it's that or the way Caleb makes like he's got his dick in Louis mouth rather than fingers, as he uses them in a fucking action, but Louis begins to choke a little. This makes Caleb withdraw the fingers. 

After almost gagging the boy Caleb realizes that Louis' body is becoming too limp. He counters this with picking up Louis' flaccid cock with one hand and shifting his impaled cock as he rocks Louis hoping to wake him. It takes thrusting up several times to revive Louis who moans again when the pain splits him. He can do nothing else other than resume with more tears. 

"I'm tightening my grip on his cock, Max. If you were here you could suck him hard. Wouldn't you like to see our Sweetcheeks cum from your mouth on his dick while he is impaled on my dick? Even wrecked his body feels so soooo good..." 

Caleb looses his train of thought because he's getting off on ravaging Louis hard with a hand roughly pumping Louis' dick. 

The penetrations are visibly shifting Louis up as each time Caleb goes deep. 

Caleb chases the pleasure which makes his narrration a challenge. "... wanna feel him clench on me, bet he's beautiful when he shoots off a load. Fuck, Sweetcheeks cum, cum. C-c cummm for me...ahhhhh..." 

Caleb lost his control and again spills his load filling Louis. As he ejaculation he stops his mangling of Louis' non responsive dick shifting his arms to wrap around Louis and squeeze him while he make his way practically eating Louis' skin along the entire length of one shoulder and neck. Ironically, first sensible thought Caleb has as he comes down from the orgasm is to comment on the bite mark clearly left a little earlier by. 

"Honeycakes, so I see here that we've both marked him today. Think mine goes a lot deeper. He's going to feel me for days, a week probably! Huh, Sweekcheeks?" 

Louis doesn't hear the reference to Max as Honeycakes. Louis has faded. 

... 

Eight people pile out the back door of the club. Eleanor has her phone in her hand and has hits Max's number. Everyone looks at Harry expectedly. Liam asks in a strained tone, "Well call him Harry! Call Louis immediately!" 

Harry can't believe himself as he speaks. "I can't call him Liam! He doesn't have his phone. I, I-I threw it in the toilet earlier. There were these messages on it, I guess now, I mean. I thought, um originally I thought they were from Max and it sounded like he was hiding from me something they were doing." 

Everyone looks at Harry as if he is insane. 

Eleanor terminates the call with a quick voicemail message of "Max, call back immediately. Tell me if you're with Louis. We are leaving the club, something came out about Caleb. He is Harry's Caleb. It's him. The same guy. Call me please we are coming to yours." 

Once she finishes she has no cause to stand there like Zayn, Liam and Niall in shock at Harry's confession. She doesn't have their history which is like a band of brothers because of Bar 3. She only has fear for Louis and anger for Harry. 

"What the fuck Harry! How the hell can you think Louis wants anyone other than you? He completely and pathetically adores you. He describes everything about you like you are the most beautiful thing ever to grace the earth. That includes your mind, Harry. So what is wrong with your head?" 

Zayn speaks up, "Eleanor, stop. Don't go there. You don't understand what other people feel, especially when they've been through what Harry has. Louis knows Harry is recovering. It's between them. He chose to keep Harry out of this thing because he cares about Harry's safety. I don't think anyone knew anything bad would happen." 

"Zayn's right," Liam says. Liam is so proud of Zayn. The secondary degree Zayn chose, counseling, is clearly going to be saving lives. Even perhaps more than what Liam does in fire and rescue. Zayn is saving people whose dangers are hidden inside. "We need to find Louis and Max, let's go do that. What Harry did or didn't do is not the issue." 

The conversation ends there when Max rings Eleanor back. Mia, Sandy and Kelsie reluctantly accept going home as Eleanor shoos them away and prepares to put Max on speakerfor the remaining five to all hear. 

Max is beyond freaking out. He's still walled up at home. He hadn't picked up Eleanor's call because he had a live video message from Caleb. 

His words are unintelligible, Max actually sobbing more than talking. 

Zayn takes the lead. He speaks calm and quietly. "Max, the video. You said he's doing something to Louis, where are they? Can you tell?" 

Max is inconsolable. "No I mean he had Louis tied, sprawled out and he is raping him, Louis is...he's not... it's ...." 

Zayn returns to speaking because Max can't. Meanwhile Liam pulls out his phone and calls someone while also signaling Eleanor to help him. Liam quickly gets a dispatcher on the phone. Identifying himself as an off duty member of firestation district 3, he asks the dispatcher if she can place an alert for all emergency personnel to look for a vehicle of interest. Liam calmly tells Eleanor to give her plate number and description of her vehicle to the lady. Once Eleanor gives the description Liam ask if they can send an authority to Max's address in case the car is there. It's a long-shot. But Liam hopes that Caleb is like most in the big city of London and rarely drives his own auto. 

This tactic proves fruitful. By the time Liam, Zayn, Niall, Harry and Eleanor get to Max's they know the car was not at Max's. Collecting Max to join their group it's hard to say who looks more destroyed at this point. Harry or Max. 

Max's phone has no saved video. Caleb did this in an app that allows a short live stream and it terminates from the recipients device. What he describes is horrifying. Max can't help himself with his inability under pressure. Each time he retells the sight, a layer of shock is deminished, but he painfully remembers another detail. So they have to all endure making him tell them again and again. Eventually Max get most of the main elements out. 

"Caleb had Louis layed out on table or something, a desk. Louis is unconscious, maybe not. but yes, I think. Caleb makes a point to show off pulling off the remaining clothes from Louis' lower body. He already had Louis tied, no shirt. After making a show of stripping off Louis', Caleb runs his hands over Louis "perfect skin" and remarks a lot about it. He says he likes the divots where thigh and pelvis intersec. He loves that Louis is shaved. He said it's a little surprised that he likes that Louis seems shaved like a submissive because the sass from Louis he always assumed that I bottomed. Then Caleb adds that he likes that idea we, meaning me and Louis, might swap who does what. Share that. But then Caleb takes Louis' bum in his hands. His comment? He said he could come just from the perfection of its full, round beauty. Spreading Louis, Caleb immediately coos overtaken by how tiny, he say "the flower like entrance" appears." 

Max recalls how Caleb begins obscenely slurping as his face becomes buried while he eats Louis out commettedly letting his sounds do all the story telling. Recounting this makes Max loose it a bit. Max has to stop. He begins anew saying that Louis is not his. It doesn't matter, though, it's horrible what Caleb was doing. This is just too impossibly hard, Max stops for sake of what he sees in the face of the others, especially Harry. 

Hearing all of this is more grueling for Harry than anyone can know. Harry remembers what it feels like to have Caleb bring his lust. As Max was talking Harry has physical responses to the scars, but Harry is growing in his resolve. He won't have Louis suffer this fate. 

This is a huge transformation for Harry. Another thing no one of the other five knows is how Harry is getting a chilling feeling like he's seeing his life and Louis' parallled, foreshadowed by Will and Francie's. 

An off duty fireman from Liam's own station calls Liam. He has the vehicle owned by Eleanor in his sight. It's parked in a business lot of an upscale modeling agency within minutes by foot from where the group of seekers are. Harry begins to run first. He hopes lover's fate is not too parallel.


	77. Just Hold On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***  
> agonizing  
> for Louis  
> Real Louis.  
> Having to be  
> Harassed by  
> Wretched paps.  
> ........  
> So some fantasy...don't worry I wrote it to be very clear that Louis does not die!

Louis couldn't know that his friends arrived to where Caleb had taken him where they immediately encountered Liam's firestation friend standing at the door with a crowbar and an axe in hand. 

Naturally it was Harry who arrived first in the charge. He shouted for the street-clothes' attired fireman to break the door but the man didn't react fast enough for Harry. Instead he said something to Harry about a call he'd put in, "a bobbi is coming". 

It was simply that Liam's colleague was waiting for the police. Harry couldn't wait. He broke the door himself. This was another thing that Louis would later learn this from Liam, how Harry shocked everyone with his valiant determination. 

Harry rushed into the building just as the police arrived. Two darkened corridors headed left and right of the first floor row of businesses, but from the second floor a defused light trickled down. Harry took the series of stairs up following the light in leaps and bounds. 

Also, Louis couldn't know then, but he would learn eventually, how the appearance of Harry Styles charging in to the expansive second floor modeling studio was an entirely a paralyzingly shock upon Caleb's senses. Caleb had barely the time to recognize the boy he once used and left broken and to brace against the enraged, fit, grown man in stature that Harry had become. 

What Caleb braced for was ineffective. He ended being sent tumbling down the series of stairs. The same stairs Harry had rushed up, the same that their friends, a fireman and two police were trying to come up. Somehow the wide, tiled stairs of the professional building were parted by those rushing up to follow Harry; thus no one was prepared to stop Caleb's cascade down them. His motion didn't cease until Caleb came to hit the bottom level. 

One of the bobbi's turned and went down to check on the condition of a naked man who'd been sent down. All the others continued up spurred on to follow Harry's lead. 

Chattter coming over the radios the police carried indicated that emergency responders were in the way. The lone policeman at the bottom of the stairs where Caleb laid asked for more support. 

As with so many details Louis would eventually learn these things and others about what he could not remember of what unfolded at the top of the stairs where the expansive, open-floor plan photography studio was the site of Caleb's brutal molestation. 

After Harry's hit sent Caleb down the stairs Harry turned to see Louis. 

Louis is lying on the floor beside a chair where a camera was mounted having clearing been set there to capture everything Louis experienced. 

Louis eyes are closed. It looks to Harry as if Louis had been crying, most disturbing is how Louis looks lifeless, pale though his body is colored oddly, a mix of bruises, sweat and what Harry fears is smeared blood. Harry fears he's too late. He has flashes of the story Will told of Francie. 

Quickly Harry is surrounded by the others, together they all coalesce upon where Louis lays. Someone is quick to lay a jacket over Louis' pelvis to give him some modesty and Harry falls to his knees at Louis' side.

Harry takes one of Louis' hands in his. The hand is warm. The other gently goes to Louis' face. It too feels warm but their is trails of tears and this crushes Harry's heart. Vaguely, Harry is aware that Liam, his fireman friend and the EMT crew have come the floor around he and Louis. 

The EMTs immediate reactions are a surprise. Their hands go to work lightening fast. Their words exchange to each other about Louis are like unintelligible incantations to Harry given his shock over his lover's condition. 

All Harry knows is the one thing that matters; his touch made Louis stir. Louis' breathing seems like that of a bird. It's rapid and faint - that's one thing these healers are talking about in their coded words - but with Harry's hand squeezing Louis' sofltly Louis stirs. 

The encantation-speaking people say something to Harry that makes Harry feel a fracture in his heart. The people want Harry to move away so they can work, but this suggestion makes Louis gasp and his eyes open. Louis immediately finds Harry'position though his wakenessness seems marginal, transistent, tested. 

Harry is faintly aware of Liam saying to the encantors "let him be". Harry realizes that's said about him because someone was trying unsuccessfully to pull him away from Louis. 

So these people can work. 

Harry hears that but it's not what he's listening to. 

Harry is only listening to sounds Louis is making because it's like Louis breath is too faint and he can't speak. His eyes are held by Harry's search of communicating and they begin to tear. 

Harry's fears that he's lost Louis slowly subside and his desire to be here for Louis takes over given the continued reassuring comfort of Liam. Liam is saying to the medical team that Harry should stay all the while Liam rubs Harry's back and shoulders. 

In so doing Liam gives Harry strength. Harry gains more focus. 

The EMTs describe the patient as having "shallow, rapid pulse." "Shock." They say something else Harry can't understand at all in concert with one of them inserting an IV in Louis' arm and then there's more talk between them which Harry doesn't understand. Liam does. He keeps giving Harry a gentle reassuring rub on the back. 

Behind him, Harry is vaguely aware, that he also hears Zayn talking to Niall. It's all things about how they need to let the professionals work. There's nothing in Zayn's tone, always Mr cool, always so smooth, that gives away his own concern. Zayn's trained confidence doesn't mask the knowingness of friends. Zayn's fear for Louis is just a great. He wears a mask of calm in an emotional defense. In many ways his relationship with Louis is the most deep of all of theirs after Harry's. 

With Niall the fear is so strong that even without seeing him Harry can smell Niall's fear. "Is Louis going to die?" Niall asks. 

Niall is silenced. 

These are things Harry realizes that he hears said because he is seeing it in real time even though it's like time is ajar. That is the only way to describe it. Things are going fast and slow at the same time in an overlap. Harry realizes they are preparing to take Louis to the hospital but each second feels like an eternity because Louis is looking into more filled with need deeper connection into soul through Harry's eyes. It's not the kind of needy, deepened thirst Harry has experienced from Louis in the past, nothing sexual, it's like Louis is asking Harry to just hold on. Or he will slip away. Again Harry is reminded of Francie. 

Louis hand begins to feel unfamiliar because it's colder, not warmer in time as held by Harry. 

Harry realizes that there's is trembling that is coming from him. He has this fear. Louis just keeps looking into his eyes. Around Louis these people are talking. Doing things, speaking in more medical incantations. 

Harry keeps telling himself to only look into Louis' eyes because if he breaks the chain he'll loose Louis. It's hard because Louis is beginning to cry ever so slight. Whatever the IV is giving him makes him lucid in a different way; he begins at first like he's showing more pain and fear. Louis begins mumbling, forcing it perhaps because it seems to exhaust him.

"I wanted to find if he was the one for sake of sparing you Harry, I dint want you to, don't have to need to run away from love your whole life. I wanted to find him and bring him down..." Louis is actually describing amidst the suffering how this was a plan to protect his boy. 

"...you don't have to run." Louis repeats after his first train of thought stopped because he lost it, forgot where he was or lost his breath. Someone tells Harry to talk to Louis, don't let him talk. 

"I can see the fear in your eyes, Louis, but I'm here. I'm not running from your love." Harry to says to Louis while kissing his hand. 

Louis makes a hitching noise. It's clear he's pained deeply, maybe as much by the confession of his stupid risk as the physical damage it resulted in. 

"Caleb...while he...I kept believing, believing, you wouldn't let me fall into darkness," Louis says to Harry meanwhile a voice in the medical group whispers again for Harry to not let Louis talk. His breathing is a challenge. 

"I'm not going to let you fall I'm going to hold on to you." Harry says to Louis. 

Harry hopes Louis heard that because as soon as the last word leaves Harry's lips Louis passes out. The crew of EMTs lift him onto a stretcher and it's clear they are surprised by how easy this is. The pulling apart of his and Louis' hands in the action which was desperately sought by Harry to maintain makes Harry loose all composure. 

"I'm coming with him." Harry blurts in a voice desperate and shaky. 

"Sorry lad, you can't." 

"No, I must! I can't leave him or..." 

Zayn and Niall scramble to hold Harry as the crew is making a hasty exit down stairs. They fear Harry will impede Louis' survival if he doesn't let go. 

"I'll ride along with Louis Harry." Liam says. The EMTs know Liam is a firefighter, they nod they'll allow this. "It's okay Harry I'll hold onto him. Go with the others to the hospital. I'll see you there, go on now." 

Liam's assurances are are all Harry has as somehow they are closing the ambulance door on Harry. Louis is taken away. The assurances and replaying Louis words to him "believing you wouldn't let me fall into darkness".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My comment may seem incongruent give this shit I write but honestly, why would anyone do anything to be in someone's face with hurtful or hateful stuff unless it's a criminal to call or someone like Hitler? Why provoke someone like Louis? Why try to hurt him? He's fiercely protective and unendingly kind and charitable. Whatever Eleanor's role is, that doesn't excuse mistreating her. 
> 
> When I was right where Harry was going to walk past so close I'd have to literally move my feet or he'd trip my approach was give him space. These are people. Not mold growing in a Petri dish. And paps are lesser creatures the slimiest of molds. Slime molds/ Plasmodial slime molds, like Physarum. Basically paps are enormous single cells with thousands of nuclei. They are formed when individual flagellated cells swarm together and fuse. The result is one large bag of poop coming together and given a camera and a paycheck from a tabloid overlord. (Which is another form of filth to be addressed in my next science lesson.)


	78. Victims

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis reveals how he inadvertently got tangled in a dangerous game.

Harry craddles Louis as they lie intertwined together in a large bed. It's been three days since Harry watched helplessly as the doors closed on the ambulance that took Louis to the hospital. The days that followed were an exhausting blur. Harry is only now just beginning to sort the details out that nearly lead to him loosing the love of his life. 

Today was Louis' first day home, or rather at back with Harry at the Styles' London home.

With Louis in his care Harry is hoping maybe everything will be alright soon. Louis' recovery depends upon how strong he is. Harry knows this well; when Caleb left him broken at fourteen Harry was not that strong. His scars are what brought them here. 

There is a soft knock at the door that interrupts Harry's thoughts. Harry says "come in" knowing it's his mum's familiar tap he welcomes. 

Anne brings a tray with water and some pills to set on the bedside table. She and Harry talk with soft voices but Harry doesn't move more than he absolutely needs to because he doesn't want to wake Louis. Anne fills Harry in on details he's missed sine baring Louis to bed. She makes sure he knows what pills how often before she briefs Harry on other things. 

"Jay had just called. She made it back home to Doncaster okay. The girls were glad to have their mum home, although she said mostly they are very worried about their brother and much looking forward to talking to him when he feels better. Maybe tomorrow he can try to call them?" Anne shared the ask as relayed. 

"Des had made sure teachers at the academy knew that you plan to be back to class next week. Apparently they all said "not to worry". And they all kind of made the same general statement; 'Harry had done exceedingly well in his first term grading. Take all the "emergency famile-time" he needs'. The new section of materials just began. The general consensus is that they are willing to help you catch up."

"So you get some rest too, my son. This has been hard in all of us, Louis, you, both the families." Anne said just before she slipped out of their room. 

Harry was finally able to sleep after days of fretting at Louis' bedside. He had what he needed for Louis if Louis waked and had pain. As for himself, all that Harry needed was this; Louis in his arms, their bodies pressed together and their roles suddenly reversed. Usually Harry likes to be the little spoon but for now Harry needs to be Louis' shield. Just as apparently Louis had been trying to be his.

....

Before the incident with Caleb and Louis, Harry never gave thought to how his fears affected the people around him. Maybe the tiny bit of self-absorbed behavior was no different than that of any other person as a teen. Maybe, but perhaps some of it was learned defense mechanisms after his experiences with Caleb. Then again maybe Harry's behavior was the result of factors created by unaccepting paternal pressure. The liteney of factors went on and on. 

The thing is that until Harry learned how far Louis would go to protect him the reality of needing to stop running from his fears and turn to face them didn't reconcile in Harry's head. 

Now they do. Louis would go to any lengths to protect and free Harry from demons real or imagined. Harry's reflecting on this begins with remembering how Louis reacted as he woke in the hospital. 

As soon as Louis' eyes opened the waking launched him into an immediate state of drunken-like panic. Once he realized he was in a hospital, with his bf and his mum at his side, Louis calmed but only a little. Soon thereafter, too heartbreakingly soon he deteriorated into an emotional wreck, unraveling as sensations hit him. Pain made each strike, recalled vividly like violations were renewed. 

It was good for both Louis, and Harry, that Jay was there. Being both a nurse and an amazing mother she understood how much the drugs in Louis' body were impacting his emotions along with the trauma and the pain. Harry was quite sure he couldn't have survived seeing Louis such a wreck if it were not for Jay. To see how a mother nutures her son through such torment was healing and restorative for Harry. For the first time Harry understood that he should have sought help after Caleb broke him. Maybe with proper care he wouldn't have gone down his path of abusing and using others. 

Nevertheless it was hard for Harry to witness Louis' first post- trauma breakdown because of things that came out of Louis mouth when he was at varying levels of consciousness. The first thing Louis did surprised Harry the most. Louis actually began talking with the immediate blaming of himself for failing in his attempt to defeat Harry's monster. Instead Louis said of himself that he "stupidly became yet another of Caleb's victims." 

After Louis said that Harry was compelled to keep nervously checking on Louis from a bedside chair waiting for Louis to wake again and say more. Sometimes Louis seemed too still and Harry feared he'd died. Sometimes Louis was thrashing or swearing and having nightmares. 

Each time Louis woke with some modest duration and degree of lucidity a few of the factors that set in motion the inevitability of Caleb getting to him were unvailed. In these half-drugged ramblings, usually between tears or halted breaths, Louis suffered through revealing the details of it. At times Harry wanted to hush him because of the freshness of the assault seemed to take too great a toll. At other times Harry had to bite his tongue and endure listening because there was something Harry needed to know. 

"The first time I met Caleb I took his order and me mind played a trick because I thought he said his name was Chad. I called him that when I finished his drink and he lashed out in this really weird way, he called me several names along with 'bootiliscious twink barista'. After that I never forgot his name but I always called him Chad anyway because he was such a wanker." 

Following that somewhat cogent intro Louis drifted off saying the word "booticicioushhh" and mumbling about it before fading back into a restless sleep. 

For what happened next Harry had to wait. He had to wait knowing he couldn't ask. Harry and Jay sat there in Louis' room together and spoke very little as they each tried to process. Occasionally Anne, Gemma or Des came and sat with them. Or brought them refreshment. Mostly Harry watched Louis' every breath and wondered what would come next.

Louis did go on about Caleb in each of his interludes of semi waken state. He frequently mumbled a bunch of irrelevant things, which Jay explained was due to the drugs, but remarakbly he always managed to pick up with the evolution of the story if he was more wakeful. 

"After awhile everyone at the Bean noticed how Cay-leb, cay-leb, caay-leb only came when Max was working. He talked himself up to anyone who would listen. Loudly, he always talked loudly, all so Max would hear him bragging about himself. It was like he wanted everyone to know he was something. He went on a lot about being an agent for models, a lot of shit about his workout routines and tried to show his musfuls off without flat out saying he was, 'look at me mus-fuls'...."

Harry wasn't sure if it was deliberate to say "mus-fulls" or not. Anyway Louis was asleep again after the slip. Mus-fulls would forever be in Harry's lexicon of expressions to use when identifying a man too into his testoreone-body like Caleb. 

The next time Louis spoke was an explanation of how things became more focused with he and Max. Harry sat on edge fearing his untrusting of Louis with Max had precipitated what happened to Louis. He couldn't imagin facing himself if that was the case. It was with great relief that Louis didn't register Harry had a mistaken jealousy or mistrust. 

"Me and Max had come to terms pretty easily once Max's jealously over me being friends with El wore off. We had a habit of directing insults at each other just to be wankers and pass the time when working together. To some customers around us, it kind of seemed like me and Max were flirting. The people who work with us, though, at the Bean they all know the game, they know I have you. They know Max is looking for his Mr. Right." 

"Thing is Caleb was coming around to try to get in with Max. Caleb said these things that caught my ear, they gave me chills. He bragged about being a wrestling coach once in a school in Cheshire. He bragged about men finding him attractive. The way he described models he looked for, sometimes it sounded like he was describing you as 'his perfect type'. While he said it like he was talking about models he booked, it was like he was giving Max his checklist of his type to fuck."

"Max got more uncomfortable about Caleb after he realized Caleb followed him between jobs. For some reason Max decided to say that he had boyfriend after his countless rejections with simply sayin 'not interested' failed to make Caleb stop pursuing him. Everyone at the Bean knew Caleb referred to me as 'the one with the cheekbones and the nice ass', so when Max made up a lie it came out unplanned, he was thinking of that. That Caleb new I was gay and in a relationship. It was an accidental miscalculation, maybe not thinking, Max just blurted out to Caleb that I was his boyfriend. After that Caleb started talking to me anytime he was at the Bean. It was like he wanted to be friends with me to look better to Max. He wanted to get me to agree to modeling for him so Max would come to the studio for shoots. It went on like this."

"I used his new befriending, shit is that a word? I used him friending, confiding and talking about other lads, you know because I was hoping he'd use names. His behavior made me believe he was hiding somethings, even though I still didn't know if he was your ex, I had to be sure he wasn't. I couldn't let you walk in to the Bean one day and see him sitting there staring at Max sipping lattes ."

The long disclosure stopped there because Louis paused. Any pause and Louis tended to fall asleep. For the first time Harry realized that each time Louis was talking his mum was writing down every word. Jay's eyes met Harry's when he caught her scratching out the last of what Louis just said. Harry saw the words "hiding something", "Harry's ex". It must have been hard for her to hear all this and write. She had tears in her eyes but some maternal resolve was keeping them just at bay so she could do the task without having her vision blurred in their wake. Clearly Jay was thinking of details for prosecution. Her maternal strength the well from which Louis rose. 

For several minutes Jay and and Harry looked at each other in silence. Holding each other's attention Harry knew they both had questions. Harry could see her fear of asking what next just as it was gripping Harrry. The question, how did Louis let this get so risky. 

Inching closer to her sleeping son Jay brushed Louis' hair off his forehead and kissed him there. "Baby, why didn't you just tell someone? Why didn't you tell me this, or Mark, or anyone..." 

Louis replied with a mumbled questioning "hum" like he was asleep but hearing her or at least trying to. 

"Louis." 

"Hum?" 

"Louis, why play this dangerous game?" 

Jay's gentle tone didn't go unanswered. It made Louis stir like he was trying to rally against fatigue to answer. 

"Caleb pressed me to bring Max for some portfolio shots. That's when he showed me pictures of clients to prove his legit. Prove he was exit." Jay ignored Louis misspoken words and wrote his meaning on her notebook. Louis continued slurring most words. 

"He had a lot of boys pictures in his phone. Boys with long, curly, or wavy hair, dimples, lips, lanky like Max and Harry, only younger. They all looked so...vulnerable. Victims, like victims. I knew then it had to be him, the guy who broke Harry's heart. I didn't know what to do next. But El knows this guy, Paul, he does security. We thought we could see who he knew who could investigate Caleb discreetly."

"That night... when, I knew he was unquestionably the same guy because when me and Max were at the bakery Caleb came in when I was getting the cake Max made for you..." Louis said opening his eyes and looking to Harry. "He said Max and I looked very married sitting together. Then he said he's more the love and leave type, it's more fun to make them cry. He said that laughing at us and looking the entire time like he wanted to have Max, so fucking creepy." 

"I was only going to get there to get the cake and come home, but Caleb at the bakery, talking some shit again. I couldn't leave Max alone. Caleb looked like he needed something. He looked...That's why when we were ss- the club I rushed to get Max after El said he wouldn't come out. The night before, we knew Caleb followed us to Max's. Didn't think Caleb would..."

Louis' voice broke. He put his hands over his face as both his mum and Harry tried to create a cocoon of comfort. They each could feel his trembles. 

Three of them were sobbing though Jay seemed struggling to toss off the strain and do what she could. She pulled away and hit the call button for a nurse. Jay choked back her emotions trying desperately to pull herself together before the nurse came in but she gave that up when she heard Louis say to Harry who blanketed him.

"...still feel it, him inside me. Didn't want to fall into darkness, believed I could hold on for you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been hard to write because of the way stalkers and trash pap have plagued Louis at a time when he has worked so hard to honor Jay with his positivity and creativity. 
> 
> His team has to explain how they can have him out there being set up like this and let Brinannna strut around in her clubbing clothes at public park where she uses a baby to advertising her need to add to their hate on Louis smear campaign.
> 
> The real Louis is nothing if not always a fighter and a protector. And let's not let stalkers use the word "fan" to referee to themselves because fans do not seek profit on Louis' (or any other's) pain.


	79. Angels cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story picks up some weeks after Louis gets out of the hospital.

Weeks ago while he was in the hospital, Jay asked Louis about his rationale in taking the risk with this monster who molested him. The unanswered question has always bothered Harry. In the days and weeks that followed Harry danced around the subject, relying on more on glimpses what their friends knew of the preceding events instead of risking further harm to Louis by pushing him to explain what led to him becoming entangled with Caleb.

In time Harry concluded that maybe Louis just couldn't explain it. 

Harry developed a theory that Louis operated on something like instinct in everything he did; Louis' innately protective-self taking over more than self protectiveness or his understanding of the potential danger in mixing with Caleb. Afterall Harry had still not revealed even to Louis or in counseling that his "boyfriend Caleb" was really anything but boyfriend-like. That was another part of Harry's secret shame. Their breakup which ripped into Harry's heart was simply a case of Caleb getting bored and choosing to move on. He didn't care that he left Harry feeling soiled and damaged. In the hurt and shame Harry made Caleb into something different that he was. Like Harry's turn to being an aggressive heartbreaker, these adaptations were defense mechanisms to protect his heart. 

In the aftermath of Caleb's assaulting Louis the decision to leave pushing for explanations about what Louis was thinking got left further and further behind. Harry only wanted Louis to heal. 

At long last Louis finally explains the gamble he took with Caleb. It comes for the first time early in the morning as Harry and Louis are concluding what had been a night filled with passionate and tender sex. It was a sleepless night. That had been purposeful, a way to distract them both in their anxiety about the day to follow. Caleb's trial is finally upon them. 

At an hour of about 5AM Harry is lying on top of Louis in their expansive bed. Harry has just orgasmed with his cock deeply seated in Louis for the third time since the night began. Instead of immediately pulling out, Harry's effort to do so was blocked by Louis. Louis keeps his grip on Harry with nails biting into Harry's flesh making Harry stay there, weight on Louis, their bodies sealed as one. Harry feels comforted in the heat of the connection, the sweat acting to seam them together iin this lover's bond. Harry doesn't resist this unspoken plea from Louis as he is too tired after yet another mind-transcending orgasm during the sex they had stretched out over the course of the night. 

Only when Harry's dick slips free riding on a slurry of cum does Louis loosen his hold on Harry and confide. At last and for the first time since he was asked by Jay in the hospital Louis reveals what was in his head leading to giving Caleb an opportunity. 

"I thought I was strong enough for both of us." Louis says in a voice barren of emotion like the building strain about the day ahead has drained him of the ability to have any normal inflection in his voice. 

This is not only said with an odd vacancy to Louis' voice, but it is also an extremely odd post climax comment that is coming out of thin air. Nothing in their dialogue during entire night made for expectations that Louis was to offer up what he was thinking which led to him being assaulted. But there it was.

Harry looks at his weary lover. Louis somehow looks so young. How is it that Louis the older one, Harry wonders. 

Looking closer at his lover Harry thinks that Louis looks like doll. There's a lack of expression about Louis combined with how his ever so flawless skin is beautifully tinted with amber and rose like it was painted there. The flush is from the sex they'd been having but his face is like his voice, somewhat vacant, thus giving Louis' visage this quality similar to lifeless toy. 

It's clear to Harry. The distraction of sexual pleasure is over. The oncoming event of day ahead remains. Emotions are moving into Louis' psyche. Louis is working hard to restrain them, maybe to protect Harry. Harry knows the fear of what is ahead must be there, but Louis is trying to be strong. After all Louis has told Harry countless times that Harry makes him so and now he's just confessed he "thought he was strong enough for both". Therefore, Louis is not crying. He's not angry. Hes not running away. He's just at this moment...vacant. Trying to process what he has to do.

With this dawning day, they have the first face to face confrontation with Caleb since the night he raped Louis. Caleb, once Harry's secret source of pain, is now theirs to share. Ramifications of this are dawning on Louis as he whispers "I love you" to Harry while pulling Harry more tightly onto him, tiny nails biting flesh again. 

"Our lovemaking wasn't a long enough, don't want this to end. Stay here in bed with me forever." Louis says muffled into the silky curls cascading from Harry down over Louis' face. "Not ready for today." 

Louis keeps holding Harry to insist Harry stay pressed ontop of him. Only Louis' legs spread to the side minimize some of Harry's weight pinning Louis' smaller form under him. It's as if he's hiding under a Harry-cloak of his choosing barely rsiking to peek out from the way Harry's hair comfortingly hides him. 

Though Louis needs this tight embrace, Harry wants to pull away a little so he can study Louis' face. All night Harry had been making a study of Louis protectively looking for this, any sign of Louis breaking down as the hour for court neared. What was once weeks away became days, now just it just hours. Hours going fleetingly fast fueling the feeling that soon the time for confrontation would be counted down in mere minutes. 

In the hours proceeding this lasting embrace Harry had fucked Louis at a languid pace enjoying every stroke. He watched Louis' face measuring Louis' pleasure against his own. Harry relished using his hands to pull Louis' legs up or spread them wide and flat while Louis remained a willingly puppet propped in any position Harry made him into; on his back, on his chest, twisted to the side, like a living rag doll. Harry was enjoying the little changes in Louis' face with each peak in pleasure that Louis experienced right up to when Harry made him cum the last time with neither of them ever needing to touch Louis' cock and Louis body nearly milked dry of cum from all the times preceding. 

That crescendo happened with Louis contently laying under Harry with his hands beside his body gripping the sheets of the bed under him and looking at Harry as Harry did all the work. Harry put his hands over Louis' hands except when he was shifting Louis' legs to change the angles he made his penetration into Louis so to keep Louis on edge in a delicious game of cum play. Harry used his rythm and the pressure, his keen knowledge of how to milk Louis' sweet spot, deciding carefully when to keep moving inside Louis, when and where to bear down or when to hold still buried "right there". Much of the time Louis was so close he couldn't speak. He merely painted and purred. 

Harry had become accustomed to how Louis was uncharacteristcally more pliant and passive than his normal playfully rough behavior during sex before the rape. That alone was Harry's signal that Louis was holding on to apparent calm by a thread. A thread he nearly broke when he finally talked about feeling his failing to be strong enough. 

For over two months since the assault the two lovers had been so insynch to each other's body every time they made love. Each of them knew keenly how and when to make their intimacy slow and tender or fast and furious. They knew how to gage what was desired from the other, often without words. Aside from some fun times out meeting up with their three closest friends, Zayn, Niall and Liam, the two had been much a pair of reclusives choosing to stay at home alone with each other. Louis had actually quit his job at the Bean. Aside from diversions to the studio with Niall, Louis mostly stayed at their home if Harry was at school except for the occasional jaunt to Doncaster to see his sisters and play footie with a few old mates from school.

So it was that their study of sex pleasing and gently became perfected. Once even, one of their first times resuming physical intimacy following Caleb's brutal assault, Louis had made Harry come with no more than whispered words in Harry's ear as he nibbled on Harry's neck and only assisted arousing Harry by palming Harry's cock through the outside of Harry's pants. Oddly this happened in a broom closet when the were out to diner with Harry's family and the urge hit them for intimacy in the middle of a five course meal at one of London finest reactants. The powerful orgasm was largely a result of the words Louis whispered with lips ghosting along the curve of Harry's ear. Louis knew Harry's body so well. Enough to do something like that. And since Caleb's violation, Harry finally had come to learn how to be extra cautious with Louis. 

"Cautious" defined Harry the morning of the trial. Minutes ticked away that Harry laid there atop Louis. What was a warm goo pooling after sex became tepid. Slowly, following tender kisses Harry rolls off Louis. The way Louis gave him up in this move made Harry feel the weight that remained heavier pressing down psychologically on Louis. While the weight was not physcal, it was oppressive. Louis just wasn't going to give into his fears and tell Harry anything more as the first hints of dawn were breaking on a night neither could have slept. 

Harry slips out from between the bedsheets and cleans himself in the adjoining bathroom. He returns with warm freshly wet towels and lovingly cleans Louis before settling in beside his oddly mute lover. As soon as they are together Louis begins to slumber. The softest of purrs come from his slightly parted lips. 

Harry lies there wishing his lips could touch Louis' because he's captivated by their perfectly pink color. Louis prefers Harry's berry ones, but as he watches Louis sleep Harry ponders, what even is that color called? 

First light breaks and colors in everything change. The room warms. It's a sunny day. Not an everyday thing for London so Harry is grateful for it. This will make things a little easier. And he returns to studying his lover's lips. 

Unable to resist any more, Harry's fingers brush over Louis' mouth. 

At first Harry thinks of how this mouth made him feel in the waning hours of the day before; Louis on his knees, his hand guiding Harry inch by inch between these lips which Harry's fingers now brush over. Contemplating lips more deeply Harry remembers vividly one particular thing Louis said to him that has always stuck in Harry's mind because it struck deep into Harry's heart. 

It was something Louis said about Harry's mouth back when they were at Bar 3. They had slipped away, off for some quick, opportunistic sex. There was this wonderment and sincerity to what Louis said. It made Harry feel special like no one had before even though people frequently complimented Harry on his attractiveness. Most people made comments that were boarlerline crude. Or simple, like "you're so hot". 

Back at Bar 3 Louis said something pure and poetic. He breathlessly ended a long kiss between them, just before Louis climbed on to him to begin the fucking and said this thing. "Your lips can make the angels cry for a taste of them." 

No one had ever said anything to Harry that was so compellingly heartfelt. This was not long into their relationship. There was so much ahead of them in terms of truely knowing each other as Harry now reflects back to see. But there it was an expression spoken in the most poetic form Harry had ever heard. 

In contrast Caleb never said anything like that to Harry. He never made Harry feel special or unique or even...loved. Now in retrospect Harry realizes that he's having trouble thinking of anything about his first boyfriend that was ever loving, or boyfriend-like. Louis did that for the very beginning. He made Harry feel special when Harry's reputation was a cruel manipulator. 

With the reality of what he was, or was not to Caleb, Harry lets his fingers trace sleeping Louis' every outline. The cut of his cheekbones, the transnation of his jawline to neck, the curve made by his collarbones. If Louis is right that want for a taste of Harry's lips could make angels cry what would those angels have to say of these exquisite features? 

Suddenly with a startle Louis wakes. He jumps, not uncommon since the assault, and immediately blurts out "What time is it?" 

It's about that time. Time to get up, prepare for the day. 

Now that he is awake and without sex-laden distractions Louis' face shows strain, the fear. Harry takes Louis to him for a last embrace in bed then it's on with the day. Harry must go to campus and get some documents. He will meet Louis later at court after Louis meets again with the lawyers first thing. It is up to Des to escort Louis the morning meeting, Des, of all people, who had ironically become the most stable rock in this troubling time. 

Suddenly Harry feels like he wants to throw away everything and take Louis away. Maybe to some island where they can live on coconuts, or whatever. Harry realizes that he never faced what it really was between he and Caleb. He focused only on a falsehood that Caleb was his boyfriend, who broke his heart and dumped him. That wasn't the worse of it. Caleb always had this mean side, a sadistic side. A side Harry never warned Louis about. 

"It's time. You fell asleep. I couldn't resist letting you have a little sleep, but it's time to get up. Unless, unless, you could run away with me." Harry says whimsically. 

"Don't," Louis says stopping Harry. "Don't tempt me. I was having a bad dream about him. I need to do this so he is finally out of my head. Otherwise I'm going to keeping recalling things, like just now how I was dreaming something I think he said to me. Maybe it was my imagination putting it in the nightmare but I think he said 'I can feel the fear' as I was fading. I think I wanted to shout back at him that I have enough love in me for you take what ever he did. Somehow I couldn't get the words out, at least not in the nightmare about it just now. Maybe I passed out and it wasn't a nightmare but a memory. But today in court today he will see that fear or not he can't hurt me. He'll see us together. He'll know he hasn't taken anything." 

Making a face and resigning himself to get out of bed, Harry reluctantly counter offers. He stands, extends his hand to pull Louis up and makes his pitch, "Alright then. Trial first. Run away later." 

...tbc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had difficulty doing edits so I've spilt this update in half. Hopefully that means I post again really soon. The second part of this is all legal stuff (in England) that is challenging for me. Since I don't know shit, just accept that this is fiction and I'm an idiot. Again I'll try to update the rest real soon.


	80. The trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trial.
> 
> After all they've been through Harry never told Louis how Caleb was with him. Until now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings as this update has massive victim shaming.

The trial was not guaranteed to be as easy and straight forward as it should be. 

They had been warned. The unknown was in why Caleb's lawyers were set to enter a plea of not guilty. The confidence of this plea by Caleb's defense team is what Louis, Harry, their families feared. The prosecution put thei fears at rest when they suggested this was only grandstanding by the defense team. Scaring a victim is the most commonly used approach to silence victims of sexual assault. Most don't show at trial 

As it's only an hour away from the trial when Harry, at campus on an errand, is hopeful this would all be over soon. The nightmare of being mistreated by Caleb, once Harry's alone, only to become a nightmare shared between he and Louis would be behind then soon. Just have confidence in the them, the legal team working for Louis, was what Harry replays as he walks out of the administration building of his school with his papers in hand. 

He's carrying official transcripts required for a summer job he's been offered. Harry is very happy about this job. It is coming on his own merits. It has nothing to do with his father's connections or influence. While the position is only an internship, and only for the summmer, it is perfect for Harry because in the fall he will start at Uni.

He moves briskly to catch a bus to the city court. Tomorrow he will hand deliver the paperwork first thing in the morning to his new employers as they requested. For right now he's only thinking about Louis. It's a day they've both wanted to come and one they have both feared, wanting desperately to put this day in their past as soon as possible. 

Harry tucks his documents into a sleek, leather man-bag and rushes on. The Rolex he's wearing tells him he's got time to spare, but Harry wants to be to the courthouse very early, ready to support Louis. Louis put on a strong front for Harry earlier this morning as they started to dress. Harry reflects on a few things about that. 

After they showered together Louis had only gotten as far as putting on a pair of grey dress pants while Harry had completely finished dressing for the day ahead isn't the same amount of time. The way Louis kept sneaking glances at Harry was like he was trying to not let Harry study him. 

Harry's schedule required that he leave the house ahead of Louis. It was with painful reluctance to leave Louis alone for even a minute on this dreaded day. It didn't help that Harry saw a slight tremble of Louis' fingers when he noticed that Louis was having trouble buttoning the lone button at the waist of his dress pants. Louis fingers, so slender and delicate, seemed numb and uncooperative. Uncharacteristiclly so. 

Without saying a word Harry went to his knees in front of Louis. Harry buttoned the troublesome closure for Louis. While he was there he put his arms around Louis' waist and pressed his lips on the warm skin of Louis' soft belly. Louis threaded his fingers into Harry's hair. Neither one spoke, both feeling the oppressive forboding of the impending trial. 

With the sun fully up the daylight made things seem more raw and exposed. Harry couldn't help his own consumption with worry now that it is no longer tempered with sharing each other's bodiesas a distraction. Unfortunately Harry had to go to campus to get his papers first thing; Louis had to go to see the barrister alone. They couldn't be together every minute as Harry wished. Harry stands. They exchange one small kiss. Briefly they had to part ways. 

By the time Harry left Louis to do this errand Louis was perfecting a brilliant air of withdrawn detachment. He donned the act of confidence faster than he could managed to put on his white shirt. Harry knew Louis had rallied dispite his sleep deprived state. This effort was as much to allow Harry to go as it was to prepare himself for going to see the barrister for one last preparation before the trial. Still, after Harry leaves their house he wonders how Louis managed his shirt buttons with those trembling fingers. 

So it is that in Harry's rush to return to Louis' side Harry doesn't notice the many passersby who can't help but to look at him. It might be because Harry is dressed for court and looks so insanely dapper. Going against his usual flair for style which often involves florals or sheer shirts, Harry has opted to leave the house this morning in a nicely cut, slim black suit paired with a simple white silk shirt. As is common for Harry he's wearing a scarf, rather than a tie, but at least for this occasion he's elected to go with a thin black silk scarf short enough to suggest it's a man's tie as it tucks under his shirt where the bottoms are left undone. Dressing against his norm again he has also taken care to button most of his shirt in a traditional fashion. Empahasis on "most". It could be said that perhaps Harry had one extra, not several too many buttons, left undone. 

In any regards, Harry's striking appearance catches the eyes of many. Harry doesn't reciprocate the smiles of those he passes. He has one thing on his mind which leaves a slight furrow in his brow. 

Harry arrives to court before Louis. He stands outside waiting for the Bentley driving Louis and Des to pull up. Jay, Anne and Gemma came with Mark. Harry knew they were inside already. So are Niall, Zayn and Liam. Fidgeting slightly, checking his watch, Harry waits for Louis. 

The Bently pulls up and a driver gets out. He opens Des' door then goes around to get the door for Louis. 

Louis steps out and pauses to button his suit jacket as he looks up at the intimidating edifice of the court building. At first look Harry finds nothing in Louis' composure that shows emotions. Simply stated Louis looks like a steely, blank slate of resolve. 

The pretty, doll-like Louis that Harry was with pre-dawn is entirely replaced with an even more blank canvas. Louis is wearing the attire purchased for today which magnifies this impression. Harry is not alone in dressing for court in something against his normal trend. 

In Louis' case he's not wearing anything hinting at his typical sporty approach to fashion. Usually Louis finds a way to combine a guilded tee with a jacket, or he opts for a jacket cut less like men's sportswear, more gender neutral if he is dressing for an occasion. Rarely did he wear anything as straight forward like he is today. 

Louis' suit was largely traditional yet it's fine tailoring shows off how slender Louis is while also fitting to Louis' remarkable, perplexing curves. 

The fabric is grey, with a soft hint of a muted plaid pattern. Paired with it Louis wears a white shirt, a slim black tie with two thin white lines running vertically. The tie looks like an artist had designed it, and the entire effect of the grey, black, white palette made Louis' complexion all the more flawless. Playful fringe styling of Louis hair was replaced with a neat quiff for the day in court. This made Louis eyes look bigger but the goal was for everything to pull together creating well thought out sternness to Louis' appearance. Stern, a word that one could never say was a normal defining word of Louis Tomlinson. 

Harry comes down the steps of the courthouse to greet Louis street side. As he takes Louis' hand it is the first time Louis realizes that Harry is right there next to him. Louis had been looking up at the impressive edifice of the building, his mind and his vision having little focus on things around him so he jumps with a small fright when Harry takes his hand until he realizes it's Harry. 

Harry's warm touch brings Louis to look into his green eyes. First glance immediately tells Harry everything he needs to know. There is fear and resolve coursing through Louis, battling each other. Harry knows that the trembles he feels in Louis' hand are because of the rolling waves of those two warring emotions. Louis gives Harry one slight smile. Harry doesn't know how Louis manages that nor does he know that it's the only smile Louis will give for hours and hours to come. 

Harry doesn't smile back. He whispers, "I got you" and squeezes Louis' hand. 

Surrounded by a legal team who comes out to greet Louis, talking to Louis, Harry and Des, wanting to move them on inside, Harry holds on to Louis' hand and allows their private exchange of green holding blue to linger. He's waiting for a sign of what Louis wants. He sees Louis look back at the car. 

All of a sudden Harry only wants to whisk Louis away. The idea of the island and coconuts seems smarter than this, but then Louis says in a near whisper. "This will all be over soon. I can do this Harry. That monster won't do that to anyone else again. Just hold my hand for a bit longer." 

That's right, Harry realizes, Louis is a fighter. Not a fleer. Coconuts must wait. 

Keeping their hands linked Harry allows the team to begin directing them up the stairs, into the courthouse, through its massive halls to the courtroom assigned to Caleb's trial. The reality of the ramifications of the trial begins to dwarf the massive courtroom they enter. In it are their families and friends. A few people they don't know are seated at the very back. Some of them appear to be law students. A quick glance to Caleb's side shows he has no one sitting behind him. It's only his team of defense attorneys. They all make it a point to look long in stare at Louis. One even whispers something to another and the two enjoy a quiet chuckle. Whtihin munute there is a call to order. The judge is seated. 

Prosecution indicated in their preparation with Louis that they suspected the barristers for Caleb's defense were coming with a strategy that is premised on what happened before the irrefutable wealth of evidence showing that Caleb molested Louis. 

The audacity of some unknown strength to this approach is what they all feared. Caleb's damning self-admission was at his own hand with two videos, but perhaps the case against Caleb could weigh of some characterization of Louis that was in Louis' disfavor. What this could exactly be was hard for anyone to know. Much spectulation revolved around the charges, fake or not, lodged against Louis regarding the pregnant girl or something tied to that past in the trumped up false claims by the girl's father, a judge too. At least the lawyers prosecuting the case knew Caleb's team had researched and pried into Louis' past. The pregnant girl, the purpose for Louis going to a rehabilitation program, Louis' conduct at the program might all weigh against him. The defense team even had an investigator go to Nicaragua. 

The purpose of digging up a maligning history seemed too disconnected and too far-fetched to stretch to relevant to the charges against Caleb but the point was made; Louis and those with him needed to not expect this to be as easy as it should be. Victims are always confronting demons again in every trial of their aggressors. It's human nature.

Prosecution begins. Two videos submitted by the prosecution show Caleb as they charge him; a brutal rapist taking Louis who is bound or choked during the most of the molestation. It is also clear from the two videos that some thing sexual or potentially physically abusive is implied to have happened between Caleb and Louis before the start of the first of these two submissions. The only disconnect in the evidence from the narrative of Caleb as a rapist is once when Caleb appears to be making a lover's trade; he is heard cooing like a lover to Louis. For a brief time Caleb makes a variety of overt efforts to pleasure Louis. He is heard narrating this in one of the videos while performing oral sex.

Prosecution rests their case after submitting the video evidence and the sworn testimony from all parties verifying the circumstances and evidence for the prosecution's documentation of their case. Medical records. Police records. So on. 

Surprisingly the defense chooses not to question the officers who came upon the events of that night. Nor do they refute the expert witnesses who verify that the video evidence is submitted with the appropriate full disclosure of legal mandates and from Caleb's own photographic equipment. They only cross to verify with medical experts on a few minor details. One thing in particular, the very apparent teeth marks on Louis from the night in question. The medical experts verify the marks are not Caleb's. Harry and Louis alone know those teeth marks are of Harry's making. 

The lack of an aggressive defense response during the prosecution's case is surprising. Then again the trial switches to their position and their plan becomes clear. 

Defense lawyers first call to the stand Max Hurd. 

Max steps forward. He walks akwardly, almost like a newborn gazelle on lean legs. Nervously Max tugs at his long, wavy hair. Through his entire march to the witness stand Max' eyes stare down at the floor. Max is visibly afraid. While being sworn in his face goes white, his lips tremble and for a second it looks like Max might become ill. 

"You're statement about the night of the alleged event states that you claimed to have received a video message by phone from the defendant who you stated was with Louis Tomlinson after they met up outside your residence. Is that correct?" 

"Yes."

"And yet no evidence of that alleged video, a first of three prosecution suggests the defendant made, exists. Is that correct?"

"Um, well. There was a video there, but it disappeared."

"Disappeared? We've sopeana records. You're saying we have no supporting evidence to cooraborate your sworn statement but you have this image of your lover with another man that you say shows what the prosecution suggests was part of a crime?"

"It was there...but wait he's not, Louis is not my lover..."

"I'm sorry. You say Louis Tomlinson is not your lover and yet can you explain these?"

Defense refers to Max to pictures they submit as evidence. Clearly these are picture from Caleb's phone dated from a period of several weeks. In all of the pictures Louis and Max are seen as a very cozy, couple-like pair. It might be said they are lovers from the nuances. The way they look together is precisely how they appeared to Harry on the night when Harry went to the bakery and discovered them. Harry knows he easily, mistakenly, thought it was a lover's pose between them then. He didn't know the reality. While Harry knows this now he listens as these defense lawyers make a case that Louis is with Max and it looks to be so confirmed from a series of pictures of them together. 

One picture of them in particular is damning, not that it is a crime for them to be together. Obviously there is some reason to defense is showing these as suggestions of an intimate relationship between two young men Harry's stomach turns over implications. When he realizes how the last picture they put up as evidence represents proof of things things to come Harry's stomach massively flips as he studies details. 

The picture shows Louis and Max seated like in a booth of a pub. They are side by side very tight together. Louis has one leg crossing over one of Max's and dangling with casual familiarity down between Max's two legs. Max has a hand resting on the inner thigh of Louis' leg. The hand is resting quite high, very intimately placed. Something of the grip of fingers biting into Louis Louis' thigh makes Louis look luscious, sexually pleasing. Adding to the sexual appeal is how collarbones are out as Louis is wearing one of his tee-shirts with a deeply cut neckline. There's nothing about this picture that reads platonic dudes chilling. It's date-like.

Harry's hand sweats. Anne is sitting on one side of him. Harry looks over at her for support but she only stares straight ahead. He grips his mum's hand harder for her attention. He hears her whisper in a calming tone to him. "Just hold on."

Max is dumbstruck. He chokes out a start then stops what he was saying and looks at all the lawyers for both sides in the room. He's flustered and it shows. 

"That's just me and Louis together. It's not what it looks like. I'm not with Louis...." 

The defense cuts Max off. 

"Tell the court please, have you said to the defendant on previous occasions that Louis Tomlinson is your boyfriend? Has Mr. Tomlinson himself also told the defendant he was in a relationship with you?" 

The suggestion that Max can answer for Louis is thrown out after objections from prosecution but not before the point is made that Louis and Max both claimed a relationship. Max has no choice but to confirm he told Caleb they were together. The defense sums that up before pulling back after making a comment suggesting that Louis indcated signs fluid morality about sex. 

At this point the prosecution deputes the relevance to this questioning of Max about Louis' inferences. Max is directed to answer the question about his statements to clarify of his relationship status as he represented it to Caleb, but the judge directs Max that he does not have to answer what he thinks Louis has or has not said. 

Max admits he said what was a lie. "I was dishonest when I told Caleb me and Louis dated." Then he defends himself by saying it was a lie he had to make up. Immediately the defense lawyer questioning Max is all over Max about lying. He rolls back to ask Max once again if there was another, a first video, or was that too was, maybe, only another lie. 

Prosecution objects. It's Caleb who is on trial, not Louis. It's Caleb who is shown molesting Louis. Unfortunately damage to the prosecution's case is already done. Max has admitted to fabricating lies over a period of time. There is no first-of-three video evidence to submit. Only the two videos are admissible. 

Suddenly now everything comes down to interpretation. Defense is suggesting two videos don't tell the entire story of the night in question. After they dismiss the witness Max Hurd they did the unthinkable. 

They call upon Louis. 

Louis is sworn in and Harry can feel without looking at the court how everyone in the room sits up straighter. 

Harry knows he is not alone in his experience. His stomach is tightening, flipping more and his nerves shaking. 

Harry risks to look at Louis because this is killing him. 

Louis is seeming to remain as cool as he can be. His voice stays steady as he is being sworn in. Even his highly visible brow doesn't show a hint of perspiration. Harry's only sign of Louis' strain is the tiniest of softness in Louis' voice. It's a sign that Louis is tired. Louis is usually loud. He's not now. He's weary. 

The lead attorney for Caleb's defense makes a line of questioning that begins directly scrutinizing Louis' character starting with Louis' tendency for risk taking. 

"Mr. Tomlinson you are nineteen, an age most teens might have sexual relations for the first time. How old were you when you began first having sex?" 

The prosecution tries to object to the question. 

The court allows the question because the defense maintains there is a relevant point. Louis answers. Honestly. 

Next the defense asks Louis a series of more invasive questions. 

"Can you tell the court please how many partners you've had since you began having sex so young?" The words "began having sex so young" were laden with implication. "So young" is struck from the record but Louis has to answer. 

The number Louis cites is not slight. It makes everyone sitting in the court room shift in their seats uncomfortably. It's a lot. 

The defense is delighted because they can feel the impact of the shock. 

In a smirky, emboldened tone the lawyer asks a variation of the same question knowing it will make more of an effect. Something in their research into Louis' past and their team's savy at identifying who is in attendance in the courtroom tips them that there is another similar question that will double down on an implication they want to work into the defense of Caleb's actions. 

So the defense attorney asks a question that is unthinkable. 

"And what would you say, is the number of, I don't know, let's say persons in this courtroom today with whom you've had sex?" 

Harry didn't have to look as Louis responds honestly after Caleb's defense team forces that question through. He knew Niall and Zayn were sinking low in their seat unable to believe this would be an approach directed at a victim of sexual assault. 

Louis is left resigned to answer for the court how many people are in the courtroom that day are people with whom he'd had sex. Harry can see a flicker in Louis' eyes signally this was something that was ripping into his resolve to defeat this trial but Louis is fiercely determined to battle down the slivers of cracks in what has become about his own defense. 

Louis says "Three." 

The manner in which Louis delivers the one word response is so clear. Any idiot can know from the delivery that Louis is saying "Fuck you" to the smirking, ruthless, powerful man questioning him. 

"Three. You said three? Does that include Max Hurd or does Mr. Hurd make four?" 

The defense doesn't wait for Louis to reply. The prosecution objects and the defense knows it was a hit, no need to have an answer so they push on. They think they smell blood in the water. 

Did Louis also lie? 

Did he tell Caleb that he and Max were a couple? 

Did Louis deliberately maintain this deception despite being sexually active with another lover? 

Indeed was the other lover a person still a juvenile? 

Suddenly the direction seems to be going very, very much against likelihood for convicting Caleb. Without pause a case is laid out portraying Louis as a sexually promiscuous person beginning from a young age. One who admittedly, actively lied about relationships while engaged with multiple partners at the time of the alleged assault.

Harry is sweating. 

Louis' parents seated on the other side of Harry look blank with devastation. Harry can only imagin the expressions on the faces of Liam, Zayn and Niall seated behind them.

Anne, seated to Harry's immediate right, now has such a grip on Harry's hand that he isn't sure if it was a sensation because of his weakness with fear for Louis or if her grip is draining him.

Abruptly the brutal and suggestive line of questioning of Louis by the defense team ends. Lead for prosecution is allowed to redirected key points to Louis' answers by questioning Louis before Caleb defense team is allowed to call another witness. 

Prosecution works to establish clarification. They have Louis reply so points are made; Louis was not with Max in a sexual or romantic way, the lie about Max and him was something he and Max may have stated because of unwanted sexual pressure on Max by Caleb. 

The prosecutor did not go to try to wipe away damage from disclosure of how old was Louis when he started having sex; becuase Louis was young when he became sexually active. 

They could not go redirect away you from how many partners Louis had; because, well, Louis had many. 

Also it was true that there were times when Louis' partners overlapped. None of that could be disputed now. Much to Niall and Zayn's relief the reference to a headcount of partners present at court on this date was completely ignored like the character assignation is was should be.

Once Louis was dismissed the defense resumed their case. 

Still it remains, defense postulates, is the question of what really happened with Louis and Caleb before the two videos. 

Defense calls Caleb to the stand. 

After Caleb is sworn in they make a line directly connecting all the dots of their case. They've coached Caleb well. 

Caleb suggests his numerous times at the coffee shop he had open chats with Louis. He was interested in Max. He learned Max and Louis were "close". Caleb told the court how he learned from Louis that Louis had a history of being into sex with men. Louis shared things in a flirtatious way, Caleb says. Things revealed by Louis included how he starting having sex at a young age, many partners, enjoying being with more than on partner at the same time. Caleb brings up that Louis said that he was with Max while he was also in a relationship with person, a boy still a minor. 

To the question about the missing first video Caleb is quick to clarify when questioned. It comes as a surprise when Caleb says that he did send something to Max that night for Max to see but it was not a video. It was live. By not denying something existed in Caleb's testimony this opens the path for him tell of full graphic detail what he sent to Max. Max, an admitted liar, said he saw something. Now Caleb tells the court just what it was that he shared with Max. 

"Outside Max's building that night Louis was wanting to have sex with me. He came onto me. Drove up in a rush. I don't know what he was so excited about. Maybe because he had this nasty looking fresh bite mark on his neck, you know. Then it occurred to me. I thought maybe this twi--, Louis, had a fight with his other lover and wanted to get back at him." 

"I was only there to see Max. He suggested that I use him to torment Max since, by my own stupid admission, I had just admitted Max was my dream type and I didn't want to leave until Max understood how I felt about him but Max wouldn't open the door. I'm into stable long relationships, I told Louis. That's when Louis says to me that he likes to play his partners against each other. Maybe that would inspire Max too. Louis said he really likes the rough stuff too. So he wanted me to rough him up and show it to Max. Louis wanted marks on his body. He said that he wanted to go home later and show to his other lover he'd been with others. He tells me to get out my phone. It was all his idea." 

The picture Caleb creates makes anyone who heard earlier testimony remember, though it was a sustained objection, the defense's question asked of Louis; had Louis ever engaged in rough and violent sex in his past? 

The question had been left unanswered as there was an objection to it. Now with Caleb the suggestion that maybe Louis is into rough sex is repeated. Certainly some hearing testimony might wonder about the legimatcy of it. What would Louis' answer have been? The bite mark on his neck not made by the defendant Caleb but medically documented to be from that same night. It was in the medical report which proscution asserted. Implication is made that there was another lover who left the marks. 

Harry almost audibly moans. It was his bite on Louis. Furthermore Harry knows, Zayn and Niall might too, how Louis likes all kinds of sex. Even the rough stuff. Some of Harry's memories of their first times together in the mountains are of how Louis was asking for Harry to be a little rough with him. He remembered vividly the time Louis worked himself into a frenzy in need. Louis is nothing if not adventurous with sex. 

"So there I am with this little twink, umm, sorry I mean Plaintiff, pawing at my chest, sliding his thigh between mine and pushing his crotch into me. He wanted me to take him home and tie him up, to make the videos we eventually made, to send them to Max. That was his all idea. He repeated how he likes the rough stuff and frequently likes it when he has two men in him at once. It was entirely his idea to do things with me because he knew I like Max and he knew his boyfriend he lives with isn't into Max. So he needed me for sex. He said he could get his two-way then go home and get more there. His boy at home would be mad and beat him, fuck him more. I'm, I was just looking to get to know Max better but that slu-- was so needy for having Max and anyone else in him that he was begging me to use him. Right outside Max's he was panting for it. Pushing his pelvis into me, sliding his leg between mine, begging. Begging for me to squeeze his bum, begging me to lure Max to come out play with us. Those were his words. Everything I said on the videos he fed me before we made them." 

Prosecution repeatedly tries to stop the testimony with objections. Suddenly it is crystal clear. 

The defense is using admission by Max about a first video which was missing to fill in a narrative they conjured and Caleb made about Louis. 

Consent of sadomasochistic sexual activity by Louis would be Caleb's defense. 

Caleb is allowed to go on. In his additional testimony Caleb puts the most vial and deviant words into Louis' mouth. He repeats things he said in the video evidence as how Louis directed him in what Max saw. Caleb describes how Louis knew how to use his assets. Caleb paints a very visual story of an insatiable Louis, a twisted, thrill-seeker directing things that unfolded between them in the videos to manipulate and tease Max. All of this was to gain Louis more pleasure and pain later at home with his boy lover. 

"...I know how this looks. Believe me, I'm innocent, but I was weak because he's so pretty. Just look at him! After he did me, you know...sucked me off, on the door step to the building I dint stop to think at the time how much he was just using me, just being a whore, look at him! I, I mean he was only using me to get Max worked up, wanting us both because he wanted the pleasure of the pain, the burn of us both using his body, he said it over and over. I was just thinking of how Max was. Maybe this idea Louis had would lead somewhere with a Max. I don't think even Max knew before that night what a needy slut Louis really was, so when Max saw it for himself, he realized it. Plain and simple, he lied. He knew where Louis and I were. Max had time to come down and join us. He got scared, scared of Louis, I think. Louis was just too hard core, begging for it. Max heard all of it, things he's not saying because he knows what a whore Louis is. Max heard it! He knows it! Louis said it! Tie him up, hit him, he said. It needs be shown, I'm the victim here..." 

The testimony ends and the courtroom has a cloud of silence over it. That is when another lawyer comes in and is sat with the team prosecuting. Harry recognizes the young lawyer. He looks too young to be a litigator. His arrival seems refreshing to the rest of the panel for prosecution. He smiles at Louis. Harry wishes he knew why. 

Also entering the room is a man who sat at the back. As the defense rests on the testimony of their client the judge asks if there will be cross examination by the prosecution of the defendant. There will not be. 

Caleb is pleased with himself. He even makes it a point to stare Louis down as he leaves the stand. Harry can't see Louis' face but he's hopeful Louis is atill giving no ground. Psychic or just a good guess, Jay whispers to Harry. "He's stronger than that monster. He's stronger. You make him strong Harry." 

Prosecution requests given the defendant's testimony to admit new evidence to refute the claims of the defendant. 

Something in the cloaked judge's demeanor Harry knows in his heart means this man is willing to have anything make this case which seemed clearly a case of violent rape be completely cut and dry. The new evidence brought by the young attorney is admitted. Another expert is called. The evidence was delayed because it hadn't been processed. The evidence? DNA. 

The night of the alleged assault the crime scene investigation included taking a sample of stains on the wall outside the locked entry to the building of Max's flat. The next day stains, resembling dried blood were sources of samples also taken from the car belonging to a friend of Louis Tomlinson and Max Hurd which had been impounded. Both samples, the one from where Caleb first admited to the encounter Louis outside the building, and the one taken from the car Louis was driving that was also used for he and Caleb to go from where they first met (at Max Hurd's) to site of videos and the allleged assault, were tested. DNA shows the samples to be the same thing. 

DNA confirmed the blood was Louis'. Medical reports of Louis' injuries had already suggested a head injury he sustained bled significantly. It was likely he had been significantly concussed in an impact at th base of his skull which evidence suggest was impact against the side of the stone building. Furthermore the loss of blood suggested Louis would have "questionable consciousness as to warrant possibility of consent". It certainly didn't support the idea of a Louis actively seducing and narrating a performance for Caleb to show Max. Louis was lucky to be alive. 

Did Louis do as Caleb claimed? Commit to engaging Caleb and the events were merely a case of consentual sadomasochistic sexual activity pursued by Louis that went off tracks accidentally? Or was it like suggested by prosecution? 

... It was long after the verdict of guilty was handed down that Harry and Louis made their way out to the waiting car. Family and friends let them take all the time they needed after the trial. Both were too emotionally exhausted to the point of needing be sequestered with the other, alone, out of view so they could recover. Louis' eyes, usually a cerulean blue had become more pale sapphire which was a sign of how drained Louis was though, like his mum surmised, he never broke, not even a flinch. Only his eyes told of the pain and exhaustion. 

But as they stepped out onto the open air exiting massive foyer of the courthouse the sun was upon them. They walk linked arm in arm ready to put this behind them 

They pause one last time seeing familiar waiting cars and preparing to go join the others knowing everyone would want to talk about something they witnessed during trial. Really all Louis and Harry want is to put this in their past and be alone. Maybe stay in bed together for a week. 

From behind them a voice calls out. "Mr. Tomlinson?" 

Harry and Louis stop and turn. The woman whose voice they heard is standing there outside the courthouse in a recessed space mostly out of view. She was obviously waiting out of the way for Louis. The woman is nicely dressed, in her late thirties. 

Standing beside her in wearing a nice suit and tie is a boy about fourteen. He looks a lot like a young Harry. Clearly the woman is the boy's mum.

"Mr. Tomlinson, please accept our gratitude for what you endured in there today." The woman says as she immediately goes into tears. She has her arm around her son. 

Without another word Harry and Louis know why she's there and why she's crying. The boy, her son, was another of Caleb's victims. Through tears she thanks Louis profusely. Eventually she pulls herself together and becomes more deliberate innhe epxpression of gratitude. 

"We want to tell you, my son and I, thank you for fighting back against that monster. You are so brave. He's done these things before and he would have done it again and again. Everyone knows he made up vile lies about you but I believe nothing in hell would protect him now that he has been sentenced. I'm so sorry for what he did to you...." 

She stops because her son looks a bit on edge too and then when she looks at her son and back at Harry her head does this tilt and she gets it. She speaks to Harry. 

"He used you too. Oh, I'm so sorry..." words are loss because she's crying for Harry. She probably realizes that looking at Harry is like looking at her own son in the future. 

Harry throws it out there. Finally it all makes sense. 

"Yes. I was fourteen too when it happened. At first I thought he was going to treat me like a boyfriend. I used to pretend that he did when that didn't happen. I tried to be extra good, enough so he'd love me and be nicer to me. Later I convinced myself he did nice things for me and he loved me. But he only hurt me and used me. I pretended it was my heart he broke when he threw me away. He did more than that."

Harry stoped talking. Louis was looking st him. The mother and son too. All were waiting. 

"But like you said, he's done this before. Louis was brave. I can be too from everyday going forward. I have real love again."'

Harry reaches for the boy, his younger self, a doppelgänger. "You can have real love someday too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the inspiring look of Harry and Louis on the day of trial refer to the real Harry and Louis at this link.
> 
> http://palosquared.tumblr.com/post/158340305613


	81. The Ask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometime after the trial the lover's arrive here; Harry is working on his trust.

"Tell me what you'd like." Louis says a little breathlessly as he pops off Harry's dick. His lips are redder than normal and wet from his efforts. 

If only Louis knew how perfect the question is. Harry has an answer. He was hoping he could make a special and unexpected request. Now with Louis' query nerves get the better of Harry and he tries to think of anything distracting from executing his wish. Louis' bum is a perfect disctraction so he decides to anoint it.

"Plush." Harry says. 

Laying on his back with Louis down between Harry's legs at the foot of the bed Harry had been enjoying watching his lover from this position resting slightly propped up by a plentiful stack of pillows behind him. Harry has an amazing view of Louis' bum. A favorite distraction.

"Louis your bum is so incrediabily, p l u s h. Laying here like this I get hard just by enjoying watching you move. You were bobbing up and down trying to take all of me while your bum moves to the rhythm. My favorite is how you wiggle it when you're trying to take the very last inch of me, you lift it as you sink on me, it's adorable. And your bum is so plush." 

Louis giggles about the compliment. He licks the slit of Harry's cock to keep Harry hard. He knows Harry was close before the talking about his arse began. Louis wasn't sure if Harry wanted him to finish off by mouth or was hoping to get ridden. 

"Wiggled? You think it's easy to deep throat all of you and not wiggle to keep from being afixiated? There's so much of beautiful you." 

With Louis' hand wrapped along the mid section of Harry's cock the scale is illustrative. 

Louis adds, "You make me feel small."

Harry brushes Louis' face tenderly as he replies. "Everything except your plush bum is smaller than me, but everything about you suits you and, it is in some way is bigger than me. Stronger."

Harry's comment is a description about who Louis is on the inside. While on the exterior Louis is smaller than he, Harry knows emotionally Louis is a lion. Fearless. The way Harry is comfortable as a little spoon is a metaphor. He likes it when Louis holds him with chest pressed to back because Harry feels insignicant at times. Insignificant. Easily discarded. Caleb took his trust by discarding him considering him completely meaningless. Now since the trial Harry wants that ability to trust back. But he's embarrassed to tell Louis what he needs. 

Harry stops what he was going to say and pulls one of the pillows over to bury his face behind. He is thinking about the process that unfolded since the trial. That day was transformative for Harry because it was the first time Harry admitted how Caleb was never a real boyfriend. He was a taker, an abuser. An adult who like sex with boys and didn't care about their emotions or the scars he created in them.

"Go on Harry, what is it? I promise not to laugh or anything."

Louis' face and voice have sincerity and concern. He releases Harry's cock which has withered considerably given any pain from a thought of Caleb. Louis puts both of his hands on Harry's torso and runs them over Harry's skin making little circles when he encounters any of Harry's four nipples. 

"You can ask me anything, Curly."

"Okay, but first, let me explain." Harry says taking away the pillow away. "Ever since that day at court, watching you go through that. You were so strong. Your mum told me you would be. I don't know how she could know you wouldn't break, but she did. And then outside the courthouse. That boy, his mum who was waiting to thank you, in his own way that boy was so strong too. Maybe when I was with Caleb, if that was way my parents could have been I would have been stronger. I was afraid. I didn't want them to know who I am. So I lied. I said Caleb was this great coach, this mentor, all that stuff I made up to pretend so I could be with him. Then when things with him weren't very nice I pretended they were. I tried to convince myself or he was too good for me, or something was wrong was with me, not him, never. I never told my parents who I was, this person, until I was with you. I didn't trust them to let their love build acceptance of me. They've proven they could have." 

"I never told Caleb I wanted out if he couldn't be more tender because I thought he'd be the only one. I didn't realize how many people are like me, just living their lives hoping to find someone who loves them. After Caleb, I was so devastated. So I assumed anyone who wanted sex with me was just in it for sex. When I first met you, even with how strange you made me feel, which I know now was because I feel in love with you at first sight, I still thought it was just sex. You even put it that way. Early on when you flirted with me, taunted me to just use your body. I was conflicted. Everything about you made my head spin. My stomach flip, my heart raced. I panicked because it was love but I didn't know that. I was afraid. Love wasn't something I could face." 

"The thing is what put me at the Bar 3 was I could only do things one way. Use for sex and leave. Like Caleb did to me." 

Louis starts to interject. Harry knows Louis will protest any suggestion that Caleb and his Curly could ever be anything alike, but Harry stops Louis before Louis can do anything but open his mouth. 

"No really Louis, let me go on. I might not have been raping the people I was with, but I sure as hell wasn't loving them or connecting to anything but dark emotions. It was all about conquests. I picked people to fuck because I thought they'd be fun to toy with and use. And many, like Liam, I picked because I knew they were closeted and it made them feel bad about themselves to be seduced by me. They'd like the sex, Liam did. They hated themselves so much after for doing it. I fed on that pain. It made them, like Liam, more desirable because I didn't love them. I loved the power they made me feel. I'd dump them every time once they started to feel like they could be anything meaningful to me. The best thrill I got was the with the VP who my father had to fire despite being what was his company's best VP. It was such a turn on to see him broken emotionally and professionally. He was so in love with me. And it was better yet that the act of using him hurt my father too. There was a reason they sent me to the program. I was out of control. The impact of that was so thrilling. That's why I went for that counseling intern Nick Grimshaw at Bar 3. He wasnt at Bar 3 for one entire day before I ruined him. In both those cases I seduced the men older than me, successful, at the start of their careers and took their dignity and their livelihood." 

"I wonder if they will ever forgive me. My counselor and my parents say I should reach out to those I've hurt when I can and tell them I was wrong. M'not sure I can do that. Except with Liam, of course. Even though Liam and I had already made amends that's not the same as with others. For one thing you've been a part of that making us all into this band of brothers. And Liam is so happy with Niall and Zayn it's not even an issue about how I was." 

"But what I'm learning in my counseling is that for me to give trust is still the issue. I need to build more trust. Trust I can apologize and take the consequence if the person still chooses to hate me. Trust I can be strong enough to take a leap of faith. That where you come in. I keep telling the doctor how much I admire how you weathered the trial." 

"The last time at counseling we talked exclusively about my trust issues and you. We went back to the beginning. How you and I met. How you got in my heart. You with your eyelashes that charm butterflies and your curves, your inticing bum. I told him how I fought and fought the feelings you created in me but I kept failing for you because the biggest thing about you is your heart. Your contagious playfulness. You were willing and open. Afraid of nothing even when you knew from rumors my history of only using people." 

"I told him how since the trial you went from being bruised emotionally back to your more playful self without holding on to damage. I mean, I know at first you would look shy sometimes, like you were a little afraid when we go out if random men looked at you. You were apprehensive to go into the Bean even with the four of us along side you because you knew everyone there will think about what happened to you. People like to talk. But the last time in counseling the doctor said something to me that made so much sense finally. He said my description of your healing suggests that you are resilient. He said that's probably because you trust something good is around the corner. You hold on to the good and release the negative. He asked what I think you are afraid of. See for me, it's trust. But I didn't know what to say. What are you afraid of Louis? Is there anything? I mean other than the normal things, like something could happen to your family. Does anything really scare you?" 

Louis has no hesitation. He answers quickly. "Losing you. I'm afraid of losing you. I think since the time you nearly died and I saw you not breathing while I tried to recesucate you. My mind couldn't believe that was you. And despite the bad nightmares after Caleb my biggest fear is still some thing, someone hurting you. Losing you. I've dreamt about pulling you to the beach over and over again. It's the scariest thing. One time I dreamed there was the mermaid who kept fighting to pull you back and she wouldn't let me take you to the beach. That was a really, really weird dream. And like you said, something happening to my family scares me. Or yours. Oh, and I worry about Liam when he is at work but that's more of worrying thing than something I'm scared of." 

When Louis finishes he waits with an expectant pixie-like eagerness for Harry's next thought. 

"My counselor says I have work on trust. Giving complete trust is my fear. The doctor says I might be unable to trust because I fear I will be treated like I was by Caleb. I'm supposed to confide in you that I trust you and then prove it to myself that trusting is a risk I can take. I'm supposed to ask you for something that I'm afraid to ask for. That's what I'm about to do." 

Louis is listening intently. At the core Harry needs Louis to understand his fears that took him down a dark, destructive path. His fear in trusting with his heart Louis feels they've reconciled. And yet to fully recover the psychiatrist tells Harry he has to broaden his trust. Ask Louis for more. 

So with a pillow going back over his face, hiding his bashfulness, Harry takes a chance. "I kinda want to ask you to do something for me..."

Harry moves the pillow in a flash, unveiling his face. 

"Just don't laugh. Or get sick if you find the idea revolting. You offered me this once before, a long time ago. I could see then it wasn't your thing. But I need this now. I need it to put the demon Caleb away for once and all."

Louis sits up taller between Harry's legs feeling the slight shyness in Harry's ask. The lengthy set up to Harry's request has drained from Harry all sign an erection despite how Louis kept holding Harry in his hand. Louis leans in closer to Harry waiting for the request with a tender, quizzical expression. 

"Ask me anything Curly." 

Harry puts the pillow back over his face. His words are muddled. His voice normally deep is forced in a tone that sounds like he is much younger than he is because he's almost crying in his emotion.

"Would you, would you, umm, could I be...I want you to fuck me."

The four words "you to fuck me" are clear as Harry whips the pillow away. He meets Louis' eyes when he says them.

Louis reaches to delicately cradle Harry's face with one hand while still holding Harry's penis with the other and says with relief and tenderness, "Of course silly, I was going to ride you once you were....oh wait, do you mean? Oh, oh."

It hits Louis that Harry's not asking for Louis to climb on his dick like Louis was about to do earlier. He's asking to bottom for Louis. Louis has used his fingers in Harry. He's rimmed Harry. He's eaten Harry out. He's just never done that. 

Harry face starts to twist. Before he can tear Louis' hand slips over Harry's lips silencing him. 

"Oh, okay. I get it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The thing is this is the thing- warned at the start how Harry is flexible. If you don't like bottom!Harry, sorry. ("We kind of share that".. is my motivation. When one is tired the other pushed him along.)
> 
> Also I'm kinda running out the story's concluding details in these shorter bits of updates. If you think there is something I've neglected, it's likely coming, but please ask. And yes the answer to Louis at the studio is coming thanks anon ask from Tumblr.


	82. Is this really going to happen?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Concurring his demon begins for Harry.

So softly Louis tells Harry to flip over. It's so soft that Louis has got to repeat it because Harry doesn't hear Louis until the third time he says, "Flip over, Love". 

Harry realizes his ears are ringing blurring his senses. There's a buzz from fear, stress anxiety. Is this really going to happen?

Face down Harry pulls the pillow back over his head and he hides there under it. He's closed out his senses of sight, hearing and even his sense of smell. He's relying only on his sensation of being touched. 

Between Harry's spread legs sits his lover. His lover Louis who's hands seem to touch Harry like he is so fragile, as if he could be crumbled with the gentlest touch or blown away with the gentlest wind. 

Slowly though, excruciatingly slowly for Harry's anticipation, Louis' touch boldens and he begins to sweep tender caresses across Harry's skin. His back, his bum, his thighs. 

The sweeps are not centered. There's no direction or plan to them. 

If Louis is talking to Harry why his hands travel over Harry, certainly Harry can't hear it because Harry is buried under a pillow, covered, hiding in fear. 

Nevertheless Harry has a sense of what Louis offers. Mostly it feels like Louis is giving homage to Harry's body like Harry is a most-cherished-being, a god. Louis is merely servant hoping to please the master. 

Then slowly Harry detects lips. Theses lips are accompanying the hands. They offer butterfly kisses. It's only when Harry feels lips part and the mouth taking ahold of skin nibbling on one arse cheek does Harry break from his need to hide. Harry asked for this. So he wants more. He needs all his senses despite his fear. He tosses the pillow aside. 

 

Suddenly it feels like a rush of cold air hits him. Too much cold. Or something. Harry's entire body trembles and he feels exposed like this is his first time. A moan escapes him thought because the shiver is caused by Louis' touch and Harry gasps the name "Louis". 

Releasing more fear such that Harry becomes audible, Louis becomes more bold in response to Harry acknowledging his service. 

Harry feels Louis' fingers gripping into his bum, biting into his arse, and Louis pulls Harry's bum cheeks wide. A breath of air blows over Harry's exposed hole. 

The hint of air is from Louis. Warm and pleasing. 

Louis kisses sensitive skin around Harry's entrance. Harry shivers and moans again. He whispers the name "Louis".

Again. Is this really going to happen?


	83. Breakthrough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex happens with rolls switched. (Because, well you know...they kinda share that really. If one is tired the other pushes them along...)  
> * * *

Harry was fourteen when he felt this queasy kinda flutter for someone the first time. 

He was not sure how it happened. After all Harry had been such an awkward child. He was awkward like a baby gazelle when on his own two feet like his body was growing so fast and his brain hadn't enough time to get the neural networks built to keep pace. It was like he always needed someone to carry him in some way. Perhaps that's why he excelled on horseback.

Perhaps that Harry was also emotionally awkward, too kind and sensitive a child compared to most boys, and that was why his connection to the school's football coach made him feel so off-center, queezy and ill with love. 

Or maybe it was the feeling of being safe and accepted because this coach was so comforting when he told Harry, "You're just not into girls, are you Harry. That's an okay thing". As the man said this to Harry he laid his large, strong hand on Harry's leg at the upper thigh, a placement far too personal and intimate for doubt. 

Harry remembers every word of that conversation which preceded the first time of many that the man would touch Harry in this way. Their first time happened when the coach had offer to drive Harry home since it had been Harry's day to clean up after practice and somehow Harry had taken way, way too long and missed a ride with the parent of another student.

Only later, years later, would Harry put together that he was a beautiful, pristine-thing and the eyes on him were those of people who desired him, not an engagement of ridicule of him. And only much, much later would Harry understand how it should feel for the first time when one is in love and truly loved in return.

For now Harry is feeling the dizziness and fear like sex for the first time as he lays on his belly his legs spread wide, one slightly bent and his lover Louis is sat between them, or lying belly down perhaps for access as his lips, tongue, and faint chin stubble tease over Harry's skin bringing shivers and burns in alternating waves while Louis' hands keep Harry's cheeks pulled wide, exposed. 

The burns from Louis' scruff feels so good. Harry knows the excitement has his tip wet and dripping without anything approaching penetration because this is already so perfect. Perfect because of a complete knowing this is for him because he is loved, not only an obsession like he has been for so many because of his beauty which they desire. 

When Harry feels the first lick sweep over his entrance he whimpers and presses his hard cock into the bed under him willing it not to erupt from anticipation alone. 

Louis whispers the word "gorgeous" and continues with more. Harry lifts his bum slightly chancing his cock will betray him but he's trying to meet Louis' touch as Harry is begging for more pleasure. 

Louis responds. What was tiny tongue flicks, kitten licks and butterfly-soft kisses becomes sloppy and Louis breaks through the rim with the tip of his tongue. That sends quivers through Harry's thighs and he gasps, "more, please, more". 

Trying to get more into Harry, Louis repositions his hands and spreads Harry again, clenching arse hard. To Harry it all sounds as sloppy and erotic as it feels when Louis begins to fuck Harry with his tongue; the humming sound Louis makes as he eats Harry out has Harry again quivering more, begging again. "More, please Louis, more!" 

When Louis removes his tongue Harry was fuzzy from pleasure so it caught him by surprise to feel a delicate finger inserting. Harry reacts so impulsively that it was almost as if it was involuntary. He pushes himself back so suddenly that the slender entering digit impales him deeply. Louis coughs a laugh of surprise, doesn't resist the impulse of Harry, but then assures Harry, "patience babe, I got you". 

Louis leaves his finger buried there, kisses over Harry's bum and waits as Harry relaxes forward and settles back with Louis guiding him. With Louis hands stilled Louis lets Harry catch his breath and calm. Harry just now realizes he has been holding his breath. Louis assures him more. 

"Your so big except this part of you, love. Your tiny booty, tiniest of holes, wanna stretch you proper, ey". 

Louis kisses Harry's arse again, the stubble again grazing over sweat-coated skin with a burning sensation flushing over Harry even more intensely than before. Louis' whispers between kisses are more soothing request of patience from Harry. His voice is calm and soothing to Harry.

Eventually when Louis finally pulls from Harry the one, lone finger he'd kept steadied inside Harry's body as he waited for Harry to calm he immediately replaces it with two of his slender fingers and ample lube. It's then that Louis begins to make a series of slow insertions that alter in depth and orientation, some twists, some turns. The way he brushes agains the inner walls of Harry's rim as he works Harry open makes Harry feel like it's nearly as unraveling as when something is pressing on the bundle of nerves deep inside. It occurs to Harry that this is only the rim of muscles at his entrance, not even his deeper nerve bundle. Unable to fathom how this alone feels so good Harry whimpers and tries to breathe. Just breathe. 

Something of Harry makes Louis respond abruptly. Louis offers a teasing "tisk, tisk". He pulls fingers out and his hands guide Harry's body to roll over facing up. Harry's hard, dripping cock seems to look almost larger than normal. As if Louis sees it the same as Harry perceives Louis laughs and comes forward such that he can grip both their hardons in one wet with lube hand and slides their along their length. Louis explains. 

"I'm afraid you're still so tight, can't imagine how you ever took that Cockasaur Liam and walked after, but I fear if I spend more time my impatient love is gonna come on my fingers! Look at yourself Curly, you're bubbling over." 

It's true. Louis cojoined cocks once wet from lube have a new hue, a shade created by the precum that is still bubbling from Harry's slit. Harry feels a sudden urgency and he sasses Louis. 

"If you don't stop stoking me with us squeezed together like that I'm gonna come in a second anyway. Are you gonna fuck me or do I need to beg again?" 

Louis releases the hold and puts two fingers of the hand which now carries Harry's taste into Harry's mouth. The pacifier effect is a diversion because Louis' other hand puts his cock to Harry's hole with the head just cresting ever so slight into the tight entrance. The effect is such that Harry nearly chokes, not from fingers or flavors a mix of strawberry lube and himself, but from the way Louis' knob feels so good Harry could come just being on it so tight and so sensitive. But Louis is a shameless prick tease, very shameless, even as a top. He pulls out. 

Harry whines then he barks out "bitch!" 

Harry is both infuriated and elated. He can't stop cursing Louis. "Fucking cock-sucking, bitch..."

Harry chokes on his words because Louis pushes his length in. There was only a hint of stopping when he just pushed the head of his cock through the rim but no, this time he kept going. Slowly. Deliciously slowly and smooth. 

A millions times Harry had wondered what Louis' pretty cocky would feel like inside him and at this moment he doesn't know anyone has ever felt better, more true, more perfect. Not even, what did he just call Liam? Cockasaur? 

When Louis stops fully sunk in Harry they both fall into a mutual soul-searching stare into each other's eyes. Harry's have tears in them. He'd wanted it to feel like this the first time. It's only now that this is perfect. 

Louis' eyes are sparkling with delight as he studies Harry. Without words Harry's lover know the tears are a breakthrough. Harry is so pleased he could be blissed out without even coming to orgasm. But behind the sparkling is the mischievousness that is innate of Louis. He speaks after taking a moment to kiss into Harry's mouth to take his piece of the blended hint of Harry and strawberrries. 

"There's so much of you to manage but I'm gonna take this slow and fuck you proper. You try not to come too soon, yeah? Be a good boy and wait until I tell you?" 

Harry nods quickly and shakes away a split second thought that his bottom is equal to the task of top as well as the other role. How can Harry be this damn lucky?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. The delay has been unavoidable.
> 
> A good friend went hiking alone one day and was found dead six hours after a search began when it appeared he was missing. He was way too young, and fit, so yeah, shocking. And then I've had a couple kids have their horses need to be put down, again unexpected, including one horse who I had to be right on her, literally hugging her neck through the end to assure her as we let her go. I'm sort of off with all this and so I'm sorry. 
> 
> I wrote this just now and have made no edits ...typos. Sorry again. 
> 
> Share the love. Life is short.


End file.
